"Picking At The Scar"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sh'e picking at the scar getting under your wounds to expose who you truly are.

Submitted: January 07, 2015

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Submitted: January 07, 2015

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You thought you were together.
But she found you in a mess.

Didn't she strip you naked
long before you got undressed?
Does she still pick at the scar
tearing apart just who you are?
 
When you introduced her to you
didn't she walk right in?
The more you ran for cover
the deeper within your skin?
Does she still pick at the scar
tearing apart just who you are?
 
You'd rather be there lonely,
god forbid you lose control.
'Cause she's coming full force at you.
And you know she'll strip your soul.
Does she still pick at the scar
tearing apart just who you are?
 
You covered up years of bleeding
with a crusty old scab.
Controlled existence, you're proceeding,
with a life so staid anddrab.
Does she still pick at the scar
tearing apart just who you are?
 
Your head is completely exploding,
questioning everything you ever knew.
The walls are tumbling down.
To thyself thy must be true!
Does she still pick at the scar
tearing apart just who you are?
 

She's the lightening;
you're the thunder.
No escaping this raging storm.
Split in two, gone asunder,
from a rose with sharpened thorns.
Does she still pick at the scar
tearing apart just who you are?

 


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