How I Got These Scars - Reality 3

These scars upon my wrist, fresh and wet, Harsh actions displaying my love, When sorry is the only word she cannot accept, The only way I know is for me to feel the hurt, Grown to feel discarded and left all alone, Drowning in uncertainty of my roots, Anarchy apparent from a broken home, Unknowing destruction that follow suits, I am loving yet at times I turn, Into a monster of buried fear and emotions. I am good but at times, you pushed me too far, Cigarette burns and bruises do not scar, This is who we are, broken and trashed, Abused when young, maltreated are we? Love is hidden in the anger I lashed, Becoming a man I hope never to be. I am sorry to have cause you pain, Written by ancient history these wounds I've inflicted, Yet my scars do not appear faint, To save you, the victim will be evicted. 19 November 2015