you don't want to breathe your last.
I can tell because of the
Depth
Of the
Scars.
They're not so deep,
But they're deep enough to hurt.
I run my fingers down your forearm.
You're beautiful, but
Your defect make you
Unprepossessing.
You do it to ambush
YOURSELF
Into thinking
That you're not scared
To relinquish your life.
I know you.
You are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
simply beautiful your really good at these things called poems!