Self RIval
Here on my arm lies a mark that I made.
When I was so low I cut with a blade
To punish my body for being a mess,
Though here is my testament, I must confess...
That seeing these scars left on my arms, legs and chest
Makes me realize I was in a place of no rest;
I feel guilty inside for leaving this token.
Now I will see and remember that I was so broken.
But seeing these scars helps me see
That I survived so much trauma and now I am free;
So I ask of you now to stand with me and fight,
To show all these demons what they're doing isn't right,
You won the battle of good versus bad.
You are still alive and are no longer sad;
Here on my arm lies a mark of survival,
I got through my hate and beat myself rival.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.