Wounds And Scars
These wounds are yours to bear, those scars you hide
- they symbolize despair.
Won’t you talk to me?
Won’t spilling words feel better than spilling that blood of yours?
These wounds, I try to mend, those scars don’t make you less
- they show your strength.
Won’t you walk with me?
Won’t getting air feel better than drowning in the depths you refuse to share?
These wounds of mine, are nothing much, these scars I wear
- they’re real I swear.
Can you relate to me?
Can you see that things could be worse, can you see?
These wounds of mine shall mend, these scars I shall pretend
- don’t hurt me still.
Do you need a hand?
Do our scars linger after we’re long gone and dead?