Scars

If you would look at me closely, you would know all the cuts I have to conceal.

Sorry has no meaning from you. Its just a word. An overused word that lacks its authenticity. Instead of healing, “sorry” just opens and irritates the wounds.

One scar I got was because you said you’d always be there. Another, from when you said that I could talk to you about anything. The list goes on, and on, and on.

I seem to be an inconvenience for you. Always taking up space, never providing any value. Something that can be locked up in storage and only taken out when you’re bored.

You’ve never hit me or threaten me, but you can’t see the actual pain you caused me. I always laid awake wondering what I did, what I could’ve done better, or what ways I could fix myself for you.

Each irrational, racing thought just added a new scar to the mix. When you weren't hurting me, I was hurting myself. I wouldn’t bother to believe there was anything good in me.

The only thing I can feel, is some self generated scathing remark about myself. Then when thats over, the numbness sets in again. I can’t feel anymore. The scars cover too much and I don’t know if they’ll ever go away.