Entry 6: Scars

I like how you never bring up the past,

You never blame me for my scars.

I did it to myself, I know that much,

But you never call it to mind.

You never ask me how I did it,

When I did it,

You only ask why.

Time heals all wounds, or so they say,

But my scars seem more persistent than you.

They remain here for me to see,

For all to see.

They remind me of all the bad times,

All the mistakes I made.

If only good times could make visible impressions,

Then I'd be covered by them.