it's easy to become lost within one's self.
picking apart one's skin until
old scars are ripped open.

but you bring me back.
god, do you bring me back.

your lips write me, like a poem.
your hands right me, like an old wrongdoing.

even when my blood has spilled
onto the floor, like ink to paper.
even when i cry, 'i have been alone!'

you bring me back.

scars will heal. but their mark will remain.
i tell you this, again and again.

but when my scars threaten to open,
and time travel to the past
is like an echo- it's so **** repetitive,

you bring me back.
god, do you bring me back.