What We Wrote

I wrote it on my hand, but it washed off in the shower.

I scratched it on the bark of a tree, but it was cut down.

I drew it on my face with eyeliner, but it ran when I cried.

I traced it on your skin, but I guess you didn't feel it.

And you, my dear,

you carved it into my heart with a silver dagger,

but the scars will remain forever.