I sit and watch with a distance.
Everything rushes through me in an instant.
All I can do is quietly grin...and resent you.
Forgetting is easier said, than actually comming through.
Old wounds were bound and broken.
I'm left here with words untouched...unspoken.
Another scar shows, as I slowly heal.
It'll always be there: a reality shield.
There is no moving foward when your attached by a string.
It's like life on a treadmill, no matter how thin.
Like that miniscule piece of thread,
That hangs there, with a pull it may spread.
But in most cases it won't break or tear...
It's just a little piece that will always be there.