I Moved On

I moved on with open wounds,
ignoring the blood trickling
until every single drop dried
and I collapsed, a cadaver myself.

I moved on with my broken pieces
buried under my pillow,
piercing through my skin,
neglecting their plea for release.

I walked with untreated scars,
I slept with scattered shards,
and in nights like these,
I fall apart, uncared for.

Realizing I never truly moved on.