Scars
Like rivers
Flow down my arms
Where sanity drifts
Rafts made of empty bottles
Canyon
From that dull razor
Where the waterfall
Soaks the flesh red
Like passion
Against the fear
Smooth controlled strokes
an Artist's jagged paintbrush
Dyes the landscape
Smothers the children
The color of rape
And the aborted fetus
Shakes hands with its maker
Never seeing my river
Her father's engulfment
Crimson tears it cries
Tearing flesh from bone
To hide the scars
Like rivers
Copyright 2004 scorpionstale
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/6531/41758 on Saturday November 22nd, 2008 05:05 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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