I look at them every now and then,

and I'm reminded of that day.

My constant companions, 

mistakes displayed, 

In the scars I bear,

 choices I've weighed.

I can't escape them, they linger near, 

Each time I forget, they reappear.

I hate them, these marks of the past, 

Yet, I can't free myself, they forever last.

The scars tell a story;

the scars never lie.

Why is it that markings of bad memories exist so much?

A part of me, you'll always be, 

Unwelcome echoes of a history.

I have to learn to live with you, 

Embrace the past, acknowledge what's true.

So, I look at them, every now and then, 

A constant reminder, of where I've been.