The scars on her wrist will fade.
They heal in time.
Those on hips as well.

But those unseen,
The one’s everyone says
Heal with time,
She does not know.

As they open easier than her skin.
Bleed longer…
Are stronger…
And keep her watered down.
Drowning…
Unsure…
If what anyone says
Will come to pass,
Will be the truth.

But until the end,
Hope will send
Its signals,
Even if it’s in vain,
She will begin again.


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