The scratches and scars you see
smooth out like a guitar's strings
something that wont be forgotten
life as a flash through green eyes
on a platter, shattered infront of me
frail and brittle
torn up body with a worn out soul
...we are not not immortal...
Bent up metal could 
have been my bent bones
Place your hand across 
my glass-carved scars
just like strumming 
a lonley scabbed guitar
sort of tickles,..
but brings tears into my eyes
could have.......
          .......have died.