the thing about a inflicted wound is it's deep and penetrative no matter how old it is sometimes it itch and I have to scratch it running my fingers over the scar remembering how deep it was how much it bled and the face of the one
who stuck the dagger in
remember being
on the floor bleeding
couldn't believe how I
was deceived who deceived
me who my deceiver was
It couldn't be but it was
I got scars to prove
betrayal comes unexpectedly from unexpected persons at unexpected times experienced by one
still alive to relive it all