I'm having an odd 

Craving

Because it's late

And my walls are pacing

It's becoming dark

Inside

Like usual, this time of night.

The secrets and the scars

Come out

Reciting my name

They shout

ART.

The pencil marks

That don't erase

The carvings in my skin,

The madness they trace.

Addicted to relief 

That is only temporary 

Scars last a lifetime

For something as bitter

As a memory.

Hiding things

From my very own self

Like book marks

Hidden in a book

Lying somewhere

On a shelf.

Tucked away between pages and words

Collecting dust with time

Ticking- never heard. 

I'm having a craving

For lines bleeding,

However

A promise I made

Leaves my ART

Unproceeding.