I guess maybe it's because I've left more scars
than I've taken
and skidded across the highways of too many
broken hearts
that I've never thought of myself as scarred
but I have to be- I must be,
car crashes leave more than just marks
and I've danced through this world not-too-lightly-
everything I've done has affected me some way, some how,
but they don't feel like scars- even though they're
mentally there, on my heart, forever;
the marks she left there when she saw that green light
and didn't go,
or when my light was red and I dashed through- destroying everything in my path.
I've been on fire millions of times.
Each of them tested and refined,
some of them destroyed.
my engine's been upgraded, revamped,
my paintjob's a horrid mess;
my insurance won't cover me much longer.
There's been so many flames-
my oil seems to act of it's own accord-
and maybe, just maybe, the scars that have been on my heart
are more often *burns.