Scars Poem by Celine Augustine

May life walk passed me
like i'm not even there
walking passed
i may have dissapeared
into the darkness of cold
the fog is bold
brushing passed me
i spin, no one..
who is this person i have no idea who
is this imaginary or is this true
Blood rushes down my wrist
letting it drip to the floor
this may have happened
many times before
82 scars may lay on my wrist
my life is nothing but a twist
of anger, pain and sorrow
a black hole
waiting for it's feed
for poison of gold
i feel so alone
in my own shell of mine
the darkness wrapps me
in a blanket so fine