My Poetry


I was picking at a scab and opened up an old wound.

As soon as the memories of you began to bleed out, I knew I was doomed.

I should’ve never ripped off the band-aid.

I should’ve just let the feelings fade…

But now the dried up memories are fresh again.

I think about you now and then.

I wish I could just close the wound for good, but it’s deep.

It’s one of the scars that I will forever have to keep.

I will look down at it and always remember the fall, the fall for you.


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