My obsession,
this will be my final confession.
Welts rise on my wrist,
this sudden burn,
Oh I have missed.
Nothing can completley be altered.
Look at the permanents
the scars,
and try to remember the stars,
not the cool running,
the slow drip,
miss the taste of that last sip.
These bumps are beautiful,
my new shameful secret.
Copyright © leighnicole, All Rights Reserved