Scars

Every time

You turn your face away from me,

A thousand needles

Prick my heart without any mercy;

I shield my agony

With a smile of resilience

Conceal my eyes 

With dark colored glasses;

I let my pen

Scribble my scars on the paper,

My tears remain transient

My bruises turn immortal.

Every time

You insist to see my notebook,

A humble plea

Escape my lips;

I have secluded my scars

Amidst the riddles and metaphors,

My tears have desiccated

In the breast of those words;

I hesitate, you insist

The paper gets mangled,

I laugh as you glare

My scars celebrate my triumph.