Lost in a masquerade
Holding tightly onto the strings
Dancing and praying
Ripping the heels off
And pulling the scabs
A bloody trail on the beige carpet
Fuzzy, gummy lint piling up
Painful and tiptoeing
Sirens wailing
Time to talk to the sketch artist
Make sure it’s not backwards
Someday, it’ll be a faded scar
The forks in the road paved over
And the gravel won’t hurt anymore
Mindful, self-compassion is just the start
Categories: mental health, Poetry, Psychology, society
psychologistmimi 
Emotional Scars
Sensory Living
Replacing
Scabs
With
BLooms
FLoWeRiNG
ReNeWeD ANeW
DanceSongFreeToBe..:)
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Checkout my blog too
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Will do!
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Great poem.
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Thank you
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