Scar

SCAR On her right forearm she carries a scar, Symbol of the comet and the fiery stars. Found at the crossroads, a scar on the map, Didn’t realize that her need was a trap. Mindlessly she picks…she knows how to pick ’em. When memory takes over does she ever think of him? Remember the nights aglow with their fire Caught up in the rapture, driven by desire. Now she's burning bridges to keep herself warm Taking full advantage of her nubile form To get from men what she thinks she needs And, despite what you’ve heard, she needs, She bleeds from the scar that she feverishly picks… Look long if you can she’ll be gone in a quick. So, when she scratches her scar does she think of him? Feel a pain in her heart or laugh with a grin? The scar that burns in her soul like a star… When words attack they, too, can leave a scar.