Our choices mark our fragile skin
They cannot be erased
For some they fade over time
But no one is unscathed.

Lessons are not always learnt
Some marks are layers deep
For those that disregard the burn
The marks will further seep.

And sometimes when we’re careless
A mark that’s not our own
Can transfer from another’s skin
And tarnish all we’ve known.

There’s nothing left inside me
That could keep me coming back
Was once a hand to my cheek
Now it’s a bullet to my back.

The skin, it might heal over
And no one might ever know
But the bullet will remain
With a warning to bestow.

I wouldn’t say I’m stronger
I’ve been weakened from the pain
But the weakness is a lesson
Don’t make the same mistake again.

My thoughts are rotting me from within,
Better keep them from seeping through my pores and poisoning the pure air.
Easier to live with the guilt that is slowly killing me, but perhaps makes me a better person,
Than to let it out and face the judgement of a stranger, their judgement could label me anything.

My thoughts take root in my veins, turning my blood to a sea of dark words.
I must cover any open wound lest the words leak out and find a friend to share a secret with.

The darkness is frightening and all consuming but there is comfort in knowing I am always wrapped in it.
It is the light that is most sinister, it is in the light that you must stand tall and face your truth.

My thoughts are rotting me from within,
But they are mine to hold, they keep me safe.

A caress from many years ago
Has left a scar behind
My body will not heal the wound
It is left there to remind

You stroked my arm with an open palm
You smiled while it burned
I craved for all the affection
Too late, my lesson was learned

Now I sit here and touch every mark
That’s branded on my skin
They’re rotting below the surface
Destroying me from within

It’s time to pack up and head home
The bar’s closing, last drinks were called.
That girl that you were talking to,
Her make-up starts melting at dawn.
She’ll return home on tired feet
To her bed that’s always kept warm.

Let go of her hand and head out
The cold air can sober your thoughts,
She does not belong in your mind.
The moon will guide you to morning
Which will help to quiet the dreams,
That you have no business having.

Your demons are yours to control,
Listen to your footsteps retreat
Remember her family, her home.
Make your way to your welcome mat,
Which sits at your familiar door
And be the man you both deserve.

The ink from my heart wrote you a song
Thoughts bleeding onto the page
But the words I wrote, I got them wrong
Now I’ve torn them in my rage

I tasted each note upon my tongue
I prepared to sing my tune
But before I started, I was done
The notes trailing off too soon

The memory of your song won’t fade
Try as I might to forget
You do not deserve the art I made
Know I play it with regret

Thinking of another reality,
As I sit comfortably amongst my wealth.
Thinking of my finite mortality,
As I depict a picture of good health.
Dreaming of romance and armour clad knights,
While absently twirling my wedding rings.
Dreaming of places with beautiful sights,
While gazing over a view fit for kings.
Longing for somewhere that I can belong,
When I am surrounded by many friends.
Longing for relationships that are strong,
When their loyalty to me knows no ends.
But I must be thankful despite my pain,
That I have the luxury to complain.