18h
Mapped out scars
on weathered skin,
like journaled stories
etched upon the surface.
Some stay hidden,
top secret,
for your eyes only
locked up deep within.
Each blemish a memorial
to battles fought,
lost and won,
as history was written
in flesh, blood, and bone.
Β©οΈLizzie Bevis
on weathered skin,
like journaled stories
etched upon the surface.
Some stay hidden,
top secret,
for your eyes only
locked up deep within.
Each blemish a memorial
to battles fought,
lost and won,
as history was written
in flesh, blood, and bone.
Β©οΈLizzie Bevis
I began writing this poem at 02:12 because I could not sleep.
Timmy the cat and his ****** mittens somehow inspired me to write this as I tend to a scratch I fell foul to when playing with Mr wiggles (a cat toy) yesterday.
Timmy the cat and his ****** mittens somehow inspired me to write this as I tend to a scratch I fell foul to when playing with Mr wiggles (a cat toy) yesterday.
(F/England)
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