Everybody sees the blemishes.
Everybody says noxious words.
Everybody points their talons of blame.
Nobody would know.
Nobody would understand.
Nobody would even try to.
How do they feel.
How do they go through.
They know someday it will happen again.
The resurrection of their bleeding souls.
Gory and bloody.
Everybody keeps binding "it is not my fault" on their fucking heads.
Bleeding souls fly and leave the bodies behind.
The pain vanished away.
Wearing sparkling smiles.
They are now free.
Though the pain is gone.
They are still scars and bruises.
The pain in their heart.
The memories can never be erased.
There are always buts.
You know who'd deny their fouls.