Battle Scars
I cried for months straight
Days of swollen confusion
Hours and hours poured down my face
Liquid seeping from my skin where the wounds lay open
Stinging as if a bee were repeatedly attacking
The underlying question of
“Why can’t I get this right?”
Why.
Why can I not rip the success out of my ribs as if it had been harvesting for years
Waiting for the war of accomplishment to begin
Thrown into the vast pit of challenges I encounter
Rid of the frustrations that pile
On and on and on
One after the other, next next next
Another following every breath I take
I stopped crying
Scars have become visible
Yet I want to rip them
Tear them
Force them open
To search for the potential hiding within me
These battle scars can no longer lay waste
Shimmering upon my tone
I am waiting for my power to no longer be able to control itself
To seep through the layer of unforgivable mistakes that haunt my daydreams
These questions can no longer remain unanswered
The war is not yet over.