Time

They told me time healed all wounds, so
I left my wounds exposed
And tried to sleep them off.

The next morning, they were bleeding
Worse than they had been the day before,
But I figured
That was just a side effect
Of the medication that
The people recommended I take.

It wasn't long before I felt a hot knife digging into my skin
Reopening the cuts
And christening them 
With cool, deadly poison—
A venom
That made the wounds vanish
To those who did not know me,
Those who were not
Trapped within my skin.

The wounds remained, though,
And they burned,
Burned worse as the months passed,
As I kept taking the medication
Called Time.

They said time heals all wounds.
That was a lie, of course,
A deceiving lie
So that the people wouldn't have to look at my pain—
Time does not heal wounds
But buries them
Until they hurt too much
To continue battling time with them.