poem written in wilderness

12-4-12

Sitting alone, crouched on the ground

letting the wind flow through my body

Thinking of the past sends the tears out my eyes

I'm trying to scream, to yell but theres no sound

the scars of the past have yet to heal

the wounds are just much to real

My heart was torn, then torn again

when it had finally healed over 

The wound of now and the wound of the past

are now open on my bare red flesh

the blue blood races out red, weaving a river across my body

My stomach has turned into a tight nite knot.

I'm running from the pain trying not to get caught

trying to fake a smile and wear it around

trying to hold the water inside my hazel eyes

trying to forget and let go but i just fall down

so i sit down on the cold dark ground.