Deep Scars From My Past

Deep scars from my past,
Festering for me to remember,
Pulling out my hair,
From the stress that comes with remembering.
Oh, my desolate soul,
That smiles those grim smiles,
Yanking with those greedy hands,
Always ripping at my skin.
I wasn’t stupid for doing it,
You people really don’t know my life,
You don’t know what I go through
Or the guilt I have to live with.
This guilt, this guilt,
It tastes like bile, passing through my mouth.
It aches my heart, making me try to numb it,
It makes me insane, making me wonder about everything and everyone.
This pessimistic mind of mine.
It’s the one that attacks me.
It makes me see everything I have done,
Everything I have seen.
Why can’t I forget things,
Why can’t I just forget them.
The past is over,
There’s nothing I can do.
But I wish I had done something,
I wish I had told someone.
But I didn’t.
And I just let it sit.

That’s it,
I’m done.