eryca1435

Staring at scars That line my arms, I remember that place, So isolated, So cold. Trembling, I remember the kids That punched holes in the walls, The screams that lined the halls, The constant phone calls From family outside this mock-prison, Attempting to reach for their lost children, Buried in their own emotions. And when I remember, I want just one more scar, One more crimson line upon flesh, The ruby waterfall cascading down. I want just one more, But I won’t have it, Because… I don’t want to go back there. Because… I’ve moved on.