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<font color="green"> This is half a poem and half a flashback. Please be careful if you are feeling triggery.
Unending Nightmare
Though many years pass
And wounds surely heal
Still I search within my glass
For marks of pain I feel
Beneath my fingertips hot
I recall how it feels
Tracing pain unforgot
Red and raised weals.
How can memories
Burn across my nerves?
I hear the curses
I feel the tears flowing.
And again, I race
Throughout her house
Trying desperately to escape
Wishing this nightmare’d end.
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dalila
Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere.
-Erma Bombeck
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