Scrapes and Cuts

Many scars, many wounds.

Many stories about the injuries that I’ve done to myself.

For many times have I fallen,

For many times have I ran.

Fallen on my face.

Ran and tripped.

Over you,
over him.

Foolish wounds, over foolish reasons.

Over what reason- it is clear that reason didn’t exist to my blurred eyes.

Blinded by love,

cut by affection.

Tossed by care,

tricked by tenderness.

Scrapes and cuts,

falling and running.

Thats all it ever is,

thats all its ever been.

Perhaps I fell too fast,

maybe i fell too sudden.

But i know i fell- on my face.

How did i get all these scrapes and cuts?

these scars and wounds?

Each one holds a different tale, a different twist.

But its all because of the same girl, the one with the blurred vision

the flimsy feet and the complusive instincts.
the one with the scraped knees
and cuts on her hands.

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