Memories

Not all, just some
some barely, some fully
some desired, some loathed
If only...
What if...
but why...
how...
What if...
What if...
I'm sorry
I'm weak
he and He are strong
I hate myself for it though
All I've done is grabbed the string
and held, held on so tight
I've got the scars to prove it
Now I hide my hands
I can't let anybody see the scars
My image, the one the high and lofty like,
will suffer.
Please...don't look behind me
I need my privacy to forget
what I can't burn
what I can't throw away
what I can't forget...
Please...don't look behind me.