I keep trying to replace
the feeling you gave me.
Words don't do the same things,
The ones I used to swear I hated.

Lines and lines of rhythmic blood,
nothing sounds the way it should.
I try and fill up with poetry
I try and pretend I'm not bleeding.

Words carve my sunburned skin,
I tried too long to let light in,
I hurt myself and begged for help,
poetry won't heal these welts.

Letters may convey a thought,
but bring you back, they will not.