Though the wound has healed, a scar remains.

• 𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 •

          'if there was a little graveyard in your mind of all the people from the past, would you find the old you there?'        

•°•°•°•°

                      There's a house of mirrors in my cranium

                                                     Each a reflection of me

                                                                               bᵤₜ wₐᵣₚₑd

                  Cold eyes staring back into my mortal shell

                                                 Voiceless queries of death

                                      Demanding the reason for theirs

                                   I've killed her time and time again

And buried those faces in the cemetery of my bones

                          Restless, always whispering in my skin

                                      I believe they need me to mourn

                                 They say it's me holding onto them

                                       Begging for relief from their kin

          I've destined them to a life of lifeless memories

                     Only ever existing in my graveyard of sins

                        Haunted by discarded shells of my time

•°•°•°•°•

~Art

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