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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Personal · #2223396
Not all scars can be seen on the surface
Your shadow haunts me
On bright, sunny days
When the warmth on my skin
Should be enough to thaw
The ice you left in my veins

You tower over me in my sleep
Figure shrouded in darkness
Looming at the foot of my bed
I hide under my blankets
But you follow me into my dreams

Your rage is pestilent
A virus toxic to its host
Spreading infection with your fists
I’ve found no vaccine for this disease
Spitting contagion with cutting words to their throats

Your eyes sear my skin
Even now miles and years away
Their brand is a burning thing
I try to cover with ink layers deep
But I still feel them scorching
In all the empty spaces that remain

21 Lines
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