Seeing Scars

Not all of my scars can be seen.
But close your eyes and you can feel them.
They pulse like rain under my skin.
Haunting my bones and all of the lovely corners of my memories.
I'm staring at a thousand little pieces, 
each one is needed.
How to make them whole again?
I no longer know if I am worth rebuilding this time.
Looking ahead, and all I see are lack luster efforts of starting over.
Walls are either falling a part or getting thicker.
How do I let go without losing myself?
My life lays smoldering in front of me,
leaving behind more scars for me to try and explain away.
A haunting ache that trails behind me always.
Not all of my scars can be seen.
Some pale in comparison to the big gaping holes that never heal.
But I know them all.
They pulse like rain under my skin.
An attempt to feel alive.
An attempt to feel.
A luxury I can no longer afford.
And still....
Not all of my scars can be seen.






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