Crackle

One step forward,
two steps back. 

You feign healing before the fracture has even begun to fuse. Crude stitches in your skin whisper of attempts to put yourself together, people love a fixer-upper, people love a DIY success story, people love the scars but hate to see the blood, wild is only fun in theory, no one likes a to do list that says try not to lie in bed until the sun sets. People love a scar that accentuates a secret genuis. 

But these scars are a road map through the darkness, a star trail of nights that refuse to end, these scars are wounds that haven't stopped bleeding, and if you come too close now these wounds will be the ones in which
you drown.