deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dark Past
There were cuts on my wrist,
I can still see the scars.
Like white powder lines,
separated like stars.
They’ve been written and scribbled,
chewed on and nibbled,
by the 2-year-old in my heart.
But the dark sky would be less bright,
without its stars.
I can still see the scars.
Like white powder lines,
separated like stars.
They’ve been written and scribbled,
chewed on and nibbled,
by the 2-year-old in my heart.
But the dark sky would be less bright,
without its stars.
Published 29th Jul 2023
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