Another Untitled Poem that's STill Good.

The scars on my heart,
Will not heal for anything.
My bones are broken beneath my skin,
But you cannot see.

Fatigue and tears,
And maybe a headache.
Broken wings,
They won't heal.

Dreams that seemed reachable,
Are now millions of miles away.
This road,
Is dangerous, full of obstacles.

Remember yesterday,
When every, single, minuscule thing appear beautiful?
Now the world appears to be ugly,
Only red, black, and blue