Cover Up

January 19, 2012
Tugging at my t, make sure the scars don't show.
Bracelets, bangles and hair ties, cover my arms so they don't know.
Etches, scratching and scarring. Nobody knows the depth.
My eyes are rimmed with black and shadowed, all the tears I've wept.
I look down the hall and swear that it tilts,
I pick up a flower and feel as it wilts.
My only release is the words through this pen,
& memories of what I cannot be again.
So now I wear this sweater that covers my chest.
Then add bangles and bracelets to cover the rest.

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