Save me from myself.
When I turn away,
Will I feel your once practiced blade,
Yet meticulously cared for,
The old, fading scars
Across the pale flesh of my back?
Ummm...I don't know what to think about this one. Definitely a late night poem. Written for the poetry challange under theme #38: Abandoned.
I almost wish "taken care of" was "cared for" instead. thoughts?
Good catch. I do like that more. It gives it a more...ummm...loving is not the right word, but it is the only one I can come up with right now, feeling.
love it. Beautifully done.
i love this.<3