The trees become naked,
As the leaves fall.
My face still burns,
Though I will stand tall.
The wind beats upon my skin,
Tickling the hairs on my head.
Our howling extinguishes fires,
And reawakens the dead.
I tell the moon secrets,
That I am forbidden to tell.
The bruises upon my arms,
And my home that I call hell.
The moon is my secret keeper,
Shadowing the sky while I scream inside my head.
I cannot sleep those nights,
While my blood has stained my bed.
He does not coil his fist,
He does not scratch my face.
He will do anything else,
That doesn’t bruise or mark my face.
I wear long sleeves,
So no one sees.
I shout in my head for help:
“Someone help me, please!”
Though you cannot help,
The marks are already there.
Nothing will make me forget my scars,
Life just isn’t fair.
The trees become naked,
As the leaves fall,
My insides are screaming,
“Catch me before I fall!”