It’s a dark place.
It houses in its crevices,
Discarded teenage stories
Truths I never came home to
Till they crawled out
And began to tickle my bone of balance.
The tickle turned into a scratch
The scratch into a rip.
They tore through my skin
My only disguise.
They infiltrated my exhales
My source of warmth.
They were young once
They liked to hide
But they grew quicker than I did.
They ask me why I ignored them
All they want is a little attention
We knew each other back in the day
But they don’t look the same anymore
I don’t look the same anymore.
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