Scars.

Everyone has significance,
A meaning to a memory.
Snap locked in time,
A way I can't forget.

One from the day,
I felt so big, but in the end so small.
Riding away, going great,
Until I fell from my bike.

Others tell more of a story,
That no one will understand.
They could try,
But they have no hope.

Scars made by him,
More common by her.
Not only on the surface,
But stuck in my mind forever.

Only way out to express,
Feelings that were tangled.
I made them straight,
So you could easily read them.

Still, the story is unknown,
I don't understand myself.
I don't know who I am,
Or why I'm doing this.

It's all just a memory.
A past time.