tozed

My Scarlet Letter, isn't scarlet at all. Its only visible each time I fall. You all have letters, oh no, but not I; Mines only visible each time I cry. Some days I wonder, how I should survive. It seems like I'm falling, in one endless dive. Sometimes I wish I'd just reach the end, There, nobody ever pretends. My Scarlet Letter is my own creation. The product of my deep, deep, desperation. It keeps me separate, so very alone. So much more, than others have known. I am imperfect. That's what you'll see. Being imperfect, gives me the key. I think that if you had the chance to agree, You too, would wish that you were not me.