(no subject)

[dahmon619]

A trickle of blood drips
From the memories of pain
As I stair at the scars
That make up my soal

The wounds that never heal
Despite the passage of time
Are those I appreciate the most

I hold to my heart
Those who have cut the deepest
Without the pain of repercussion

The rain falls into my eyes
Washing away the red
Clearing my mind of the anger
That I keep inside
From the horible times
That mold me into who I am
The person you now see

A throb runs up my arms
The source being my hands
The memories of the times
When my rage broke free