Why?

I know that's what will never fade from their minds.

Why wasn't it worth it?

If only they knew. The haunted hushes. The burning scars that were only visible to my own eyes.

They say it's the window to the soul.

It's only the window to hell.

My agony.

The mask, like a cocoon, shields the world behind.

That thing that's printed on my body?

It's not realistic.

A curve.

A smile.

After so long, it can be painted on. Like a clown, it's not real.

It never is.

They never know.

Or maybe it's beyond caring for?

Invisible.

The battle. Is in the core.

The cuts, the so deep, numbing, cuts.

All of it.

But, it's breathing.

The war is over.

A river of jaded velvet flows down. It's gone beyond a safe-net.

I wanted it?

No hushes.

No golden, hot battle.

Even as the scars remained.

The peace has come.

But they'll wonder.

Why?