They say time heal all wounds
And though that may be true
For the majority of scenarios
It’s not an irrefutable fact

For our childhood scratches
May be a fleeting kind of pain
Yet there are some scars that life
Engraves deep within our soul

Like a bullet whose trajectory
Missed my heart by a few inches
But hit a far more damaging target
My very last bit of innocence

Now, when I look into the mirror
Every broken bone lost its meaning
And the echoes of who I once was
Are all that remains to be seen

I want to answer
every one of these poems
as if they were letters
in my inbox, I, a minor
celebrity with no staff;
I would get up early
and read each one;
I would encourage you all
to not despair, or ever
stop writing, and above all
to realize, there is no shame
in wanting, hurting, being
over wordy with petitions,
baring your soul, or
hurling your visions
into the poemsphere;
we are mutually stuck
and this is such a great way
to get traction