Not Mine

You have done what you needed to do to survive the war,

the scars are part of the story that you so desperately wanted to be written.

Ripping the skin to the bone in hopes to find a story worth telling,

even if it meant your soul was split in half,

still human, but darker being.

I cannot mend the wounds you choose to keep open,

if hurting others is what it takes to heal you,

then I will be here waiting for you,

and I do not mind the blood on your hands

so long as it's not mine.