the stories written on my skin

My arms are marked with scars,
That whisper tales of silent wars.
In fragile moments, when the stars
Dim their light, and shadows soar.

When thoughts grow jagged, pulling tight,
And my skin no longer feels like my own,
I reach for something in the night—
A hollow promise carved in stone.

Each scar a tale I’ve left untold,
Etched in silence, in the fold
Of moments lost to darker skies—
Each memory, a thin disguise.

But solace flees before it’s found,
And each new mark, a weightless sound—
Echoes trapped beneath my skin,
Fighting battles I won’t win.