Of the life I used to have
Is memories.
Memories before the war
Of peace,
Love,
Happiness,
Serenity.
Memories during the war
Of struggling
Crushed hope
Lost happiness
And Fading love.
And memories after the war
The most vivid,
The most painful.
Memories
Of lost memories,
Lost love
Lost happiness
Tears
Death
And self mutilation.
These memories
Are etched into my skin
A tattoo
That has gotten infected,
Leaving a rotten, open wound in its place.
Those memories
Will stay forever
No matter how hard I try to scrub them away.
My skin may turn red
The blood may flow
But encased within all the blood
The memories will stay.
I try to cover them up with better memories
Happier memories,
More cheerful memories,
But the depressing stain always creeps through.
Sometimes I think that it's gone
But it has just gone for now,
Slipped away underneath the covers.
Someday I hope
That the scar will be gone forever,
Just another memory
That will be locked away forever.
But in the mean time,
It will be hidden just beneath the skin,
Just waiting for the right moment,
Or the wrong moment,
To break free.
