I'm a *******
I guess
but i always thought of me
as a human canvas
your blank slate
do I like the pain?
I've always had a high tolerance
but do I like it?
I guess not
but when it boils down to it
I'm happy
to be your punching bag
the dead air
which you fill with songs
older than time
these scars
are an ode
to your life
a beautiful poem
even the ones
which you can't see
I'm more like a billboard
than a man
but my ad space
will always be reserved
for you