and that's the place,
where I go,
the mind nestles before it goes to bed,
and I struggle against your hold even now,

i show my neck

I trace the scars,
tokens,
of affection left,
for me.

And I wonder if you've,
if you were ever loved,

and I feel the brush of constant disappointment,
that lap over your soul,

and you'd erase it if you could get your weapon to reach,
and you talk with demons,
while they haunt me in my sleep.

and everyday I try to draw,
strength from those who prove to be strong,
and the memories a litany,
an unsung song.

I can't write it down,
I can't seem to spell it out

and we don't talk about it,
but I want to.