My scars

Your poisoned fingers
are touching my skin.
If it lingers,
I'll see you like a sin.

My blood is on fire,
it's burning me inside.
I'm deep in mire
with these veins, so dried.

I got a lot of scars
in my back and chest.
Your nails went too far
and, now, I can't rest.

Your words are
black, white and gray.
To cure these scars
I won't hear what you say.


Autor: Lucas Braga