These Arms Poem by lost lindsey

These limbs I have
These arms I call mine
holding myself in my pain and agony

These tan arms stretch outward
looking for something more
than the excuse of scars

Nothing is on them but freckles
from a warm sun, a fanciful thought
of it has been cast down.

Having held a beautiful girl
promising safety on a hopeless breath
to breathe in fresh air is a scarce thing.

Living in a cold place
with a pallid face
and limpid lies

I feel the sting of regret
and hear the song of hate
praising my name