Scars

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I still remember in vivid detail the first time my father made me bleed. It was a cold November evening and we had just finished dinner. I was all dressed up in my golden basketball jersey ready for a game.
These heavy hearted warriors  With medals on their wrists   These sadness stricken gladiators  The world can not resist.                       They fight their daily battles 
They told me, all my young life:        Time heals all wounds -- and I assumed that they were right. But what, I wonder, heals the wounds that Time inflicts?  
Untouched and pure, your bright serenity Is beauty, shining rays of special gold. This light is you, the newborn entity, A piece of Universe’s light made bold.
I'm sickly in love with the scars on my hips But they're finally starting to fade It's a milestone of self care and redemption, but at the same time, it feels like defeat
Whenever I'm pained The scars on my thighs swell up To blood red that's raised.
I am a weakling, Frail and small, Too scared to feel Anything at all, And I ask for help Without my words
When I met you, the stars of my night sky aligned. The bird’s chirps shone and             the sun’s rays sang. When we kissed love dripped from our lips. Our bodies curled like shavings of wood.
My life is an infinite number of scars, Marring the planet upon which I walk. It’s one after another, They never seem to end. Some were caused by others,
Scars are not just skin that was a wound, that was created by drawing with silver. but are the embodiment of our emotions, emotions that overflow like the ocean during a storm.
I let you in, though it was hard   I let you in, you saw my scars
I have been told that to be loved, I must be: Clean. Unscarred. Perfect. I hear these words inside my head.
I always hated when people would look at my scars, With a look of regret. Giving me a look of “I should’ve been there”   Yeah
Your scars are not beautiful. But you are beautiful with them. You were beautiful without them, but you have a new kind of beauty with them, because they speak of how much you have overcome.
                                                        On my wrist are scars                                                      That you can't see from afar
paper gause pen sword red ink poem   slash for every wrong answer   i kind of want to subtract you
Scars Naeha Inapanuri   The scars that trail up my arm Forged in the fires of my stupidity No longer burn No longer hurt Merely a memory from the past
Dear Creation,   I am at a crossroads with myself a sinner with high standards believing that someday I’ll find happiness with someone
I don't have scars   I've never felt the tension and the sweet release a surprise so pure and innocent Breaking the surface   raw, primal pain sharp breaths Tangy, coppery
Dear You,   This is my least favorite part of my day. I can never escape her eyes. And my body can never escape her judgments.   "Bent, broken, barbed" That's all she seems to say as her nails
They are like trenches Where I can hide I can put up my fences And feel safe inside   In each one I took shelter From the bullets that rained While my real wounds sweltered
Carved out of marbleI see a sea of white and blueThese marble masks you wear to alter your facesOut of fears forced on you
remember me as being happy. don't look to deep into my depression nowpretend that i was all smiles an joypretend that i am off on a journey, soaring through the clouds 
I just wanted to write and say, In case you ever wonder or are filled with regret  or In case your heart decides
I wish things were differently I wish I can hit your line I wish time was right  But time isnt mine  I wonder every night  I wonder what might you think I wonder about life
like coals cast upon iron and sharpened; heated words that grate upon the concious does nothing but create weapons ~Seawolf
My wonderful wife. Why do you not see your beauty? Maybe if you looked in the mirror a little while longer you could see what I see. Someone who is so beautiful no matter what they all said.
call me out of the shadows i call home call me out of this place that stripped me to the bone call me out of the burning fire of life call me away from the blade of a knife
So here’s how it goes.I breathe my life into the wind and the mists carry it to the sea
Sometimes the hardest thing Is to look in the mirror To face the broken smile The empty blue eyes That once held the oceans.
All these branches, All these leaves, They're changing colours, Like women's weaves. They're changing. They're rearranging. They're bearing all, For the winter.
It's too bad I'm not a mas-o-chisttie me down like i asked-for-this   I'm screamingI'm strandedAbdicatedAbandoned   No. Free. Will.  
“Loved but always alone”  
There are galaxies behind your eyes With more than a million stars. But why the constellations of your skies Look exactly like my scars?
Beatings, bruising, cuts and scars Smiles to hide the pain Wishing on a shooting star That I could fly away   Heartbreak, tears, screams and cries Hidden day by day Covered up with laughter
It seemed logical at the time. But now I stare at the scars, Demonized by those around me. To them each one is ugly, To them each one is alienating. To them each one is my insanity.  
Another smile, another tear, Another kiss, a lot more fear, Another hit, nothing is clear, Another memory that will last for years. Another heart that has been broken, Another wound that has been opened,
This was never an easy walk.Just look at the scars of my heart, and they will talk.They'll show you my countless faults.My countless falls.
Your eyes travel my body like a plane battles the wind They close with understanding as they land on the sparkling sliver hidden on my skin You ask me how I got them as they stare at you shimmering in secrecy
          mirror mirror, what do you see?           some hidden power buried deep?            or are the scars all that you see?          like the others who don't see me.             I am not Scars but I'm not free
"Can't put your mind in a cast but broken things aren't meant to last  Like walking on broken glass reminding you bout scars of past cause the world went by so fast  But not you,              your stuck
This water I drink is like a pool. I can feel the residue that I know comes from                                                                        others.  
            Cutting into             peacefulness of             skin weaving together,             patching and overlapping,             as if filling             a crack
I'm alone and can't sleepThere's no one here but meI'm stuck with all these memoriesIf they could only see
The needle pricks my bodyInk flows from its pointCaressing my skin, creating memoriesCould be a reminderOr a messageThe telling of a storyThe marking of words and images
"They see my scars They see my eyes Look past my skin It's just a disguise It tears me apart  A shot to the heart To see you look through me You call, but not to me Call me names
The dust swirled with great aggression, resembling my thoughts, twisted and uncontrollable. The sky illuminated with darkness, black and gray, and ash,
"Bloody... Hell..." I whisper and whimper. My white bath tub- Slaughtered by my blood. Tears freeze at the corner of my eyes, And three jagged lines, Slowly pouring my life away.
What if I’m never good enough for those I adore? I see wonders in a new face: ensnared by her  beauty grace and warm heart. captivated by an overwhelming, happy presence;
He doesn't love me anymore.After all the pain he inflicted, the lies.All the other women he swept off their feet with his infinite tales of bullshitAnd meaningless "I love yous" falsely comforting them in his arms.
I have no grip to the ground on this earth The rubber on the soles of my shoes is worn down Nothing ties me down to the trees To the dying flowers To the muddy grass And gravity is nothing more than a nuisance
I am the night.  I am the dark. I am the very thing that children wake from in their terrified stupors of panic, gasping for air and clutching duvets closer to themselves, trembling in the vast blackness.
My heart skips a beatFeelings start to flowI stop myself from fallingI'm scared to let them grow Time heals all woundsBut what about trust?I bet he's not after loveAll they ever want is lust
Slashes all along her cheek Make her spirit and pride weak. She hides behind a mane of hair, because she is afraid people will stare.   The girl is shy, her eyes are haunted.
Burn A fury of fire that never died Burn A hatred that I refused to hide Burn My spirit that rose like a phoenix   Burns
Baking cookies on cold mornings                                               A mean word Hot pans leave burn scars                                                            No scar is seen
Wounds, that illuminate...That spirit, that planted the seed…unknown!Just a biological relationship…is not a home.The soulknows you not…Depart from thee.
This cliched little dance we've found; You cast a line: I nibble,  You close away and leave me wondering over my patter -  (too much, and  Have I offended?) ~ Shrug  
Identified through numbersand only a whisper of a namethat I cannot confirm,I don't know who I am.Ten years were stolen
i fell off my bike when i was 8 and  i still have the scars on my knees from
feel beneath those cuts your soul radiates beauty battle scars come forth
RED
I am the
I always worried that people would notice and ask
I happen to find scars to be beautiful 
You took the turn too sharply;
The scars are all over. I think about all of the pain. But also about how much I've gained. Listening to hate, People getting raped. Aiming to succeed, Passing up my problems with a gigantic lead.  
Isn’t her smile radiant? Doesn’t it shine so bright? Can’t you see she’s happy?  
Fiametta Under the layers of our years, Beneath that wizened crust,  sleeps the ageless spirit that once set fire to our eyes.
I guess, no, I don’t guess. I have too many scars to count. When did these start to amount, I don’t know.
Guess what? I'm doing well for once. It seems surreal That my heart and mind agree Things are alright But something itches I thought, a laugh, a word.
Her floor is decorated with red polka dots. She adds more daily without a second thought.   Her countless scars serve as ornaments for life.
I take my skin off, piece by peace Slowly, So I can hang it up —Shiny like glass— And look at the gashes. They are burned deep by fears, Coming so close to the surface
60
i hate my scars. they are not lovely, they are not bravery.  they dictate my life. they tell me what i can wear, where to go who i can trust, who i can love...
The flawle
Looking through the filter I am perfect. The truth about my life is nonexistent. Looking through the filter. all the words I say are pure, With no stammer or lisp. Looking through the filter.
Slammed into lockers, pushed into walls. This life just wont stop hurting. When I am all alone, I can see the world, for what it truly is. I walk alone on the edge of the road,
Their made to torment us To lock us away
Some White, Cream, Tan, Buff. Pink, Red, Brown, Black. Chalky complexions, solid skins.   Some room in between for no invasion of space. Stacking and stacking— too much to even count.
We all want to be special in some way in the world, but what holds us back? Is it the failures, mistakes, or misfortunes of our past? It's the scars that pose as the three.
to put the parallel lines decorating my wrists like outdated wallpaper to use, i would peel the scar tissue like the rind of a blood orange, link the massacred pieces of myself into a chain,
The blood seeps in Through the cracks on the walls And it penetrates  Into my spirit Evolving my state Into a more impeccable union   Listlessly it closes in On the lion
 
Every scar is a reason, A reason to hold, A reason to love... Let me hold you in my arms tonight, Showing you that I can see the beauty through the beast,
If only,
We cannot see it raging in other other cannot see it rage in us stll the warrages on we never acknowledge what is happening you know you are living,but don't know what battles ar being set
I'm 19 I'm 19, male I'm 19, male, hispanic I'm 19, male, hispanic, I have scars I'm 19, male, hispanic, I have scars, I have feelings I'm 19, male, hispanic, I have scars, I have feelings, and I love deeply
The awkward thing about permenance  is just how contradiciting it is.
I'm just another   double digit age                         with                              triple digit scars   I rolled up my sleeves and chased a dream
Paint the wall, peel the paint
You know what's beautiful?
they never even noticed the redness in her eyes they never even noticed  the signs that everyday she cried they never even noticed because they never even cared
Just once, just once I want to get dressed up in a dress with short sleeves And not feel like everyone is staring at my ugly arms. But because of choices I made when I was 14,15,16
Look yonder don’t you see? That crumpled paper lying there, Discarded without care   In its wrinkled lines and smeared ink My darkest secrets hidden underneath a tear Folded up and messy over there.
I've been so sore lately it's as if my fingers are falling apart 
  These scars of mine  are like a scrap book with memories I’ve got the good, the bad don’t bother me, scrape the ugly away with my tears.   My pain never fades away
This isn't my nightmare, no! My dreams and thoughts and veins ache for you! For release. To see them all again. All over. This isnt my nightmare, no! Cover me in pretty pink lines, baby, I need you now! no! Not you... not you...
I wear black, and cover my eyes. I hide my scars, and hold in my tears.   I hide my face from everybody i know. But when it shows, my smile is fake. I'm good at hiding my pain.
It's funny.
She sat down wonder blown and yet far from the clowns Their banter the last thing on her mind she reached for the clouds grass lay firm beneath her body the sky ocean blue with
enough of your comfortand poetry about innocence   my scars are not an invitationfor you to kiss my wrists   and how dare you try to make me feellike my wars weren’t realdid not exist
Love and pain is all know!
As a child she was instructed to stay upon her knees nightly, for forgiveness, for praise. Life progressed on; and times turned for the worst.
Her scars are like a diary, open for the world to see. Showing how low she's been, and how many times she's been there. Her wrist is the only honest part of her, it's where the truth about her world lies.
she got hurt when she was 5 when she fell. she was in her room alone,  pretending to be ruler of the skies  as she jumped off a cloud of comforters and pillows  onto a hard wooden floor where she slid and
One scar
hes just misunderstood. by day hes a rebel ditching black eyed stoned reckless  sitting back in his chair with his glasses on hiding sleeping eyes and the teachers say nothing
I was young, and DUMB.
my arms are full of new beds that i have made with a rake and a hoe my scar gardens that grow.
Screaming inside, no one can hear it, I know when I die, I'll be a sad spirit. Concealed with pain, I lock myself in,
i want you to see the scars on my skin the wounds youre responsible for i want you to witness my blood an my pain and my nights spent alone on the floor   i want you to watch as the sharp razor glides
There's always that part of me that finds it hard to completely let go
I own a body covered by scars. Months ago I had to go to the E.R., (an infection in my lip) and the doctor saw those scars lining the inside of my wrist and if he thought I missed
bruised and slammed up against a wall, they are silent in fear. their lover strokes them, carresses them, does things that that didnt have permission to do they feel violated, worthless
As I lie here naked, I catch glimpses of them. Some scattered disorderly on me left thigh, Others straight and regimented on my right.  
  let me in. show me around your heart. let me in. ill mend every scar.
fading with age brownign, blurring suffering every day but continues stirring  mindlessly lingering mythodically fingering blades of a razor and quaint gassoline flame.
Tired of all these surprises,
My heart is a bubble I wish I could pop I hate the pain so much I wish it would stop. Hoping to cry adn trying so hard it won't stop the storm that's going on in my heart.
The sting of the pain
I am glue. I am born of mothers whose hope tosalvage deteriorating marriages, though strongcould not put their husbands’ nomadic hands at bay  
When you strip yourself bare before another You are showing them your physical flaws You are undressing who you are underneath all the clothes
I have these scars from you. And I don't mean just you I mean everyone including you. I'm too big. I have an eating disorder. I ache from depression and battle anxiety.  
a beautiful victory
The pain in my eyes can't tell you what happened. 
No one would guess.Who would have thought?But two and two is four.Put it together.It can't be that hard.Look at me. Can't you see the pain?Can't you see the hurt?I wear a smile
 
if I were you, and you were me, how happy then would I be? I'd know how you feel, and you I, but would you be able to look me in the eye? for you'd know my secrets, all my lies,
The slits on her wrist, The burns on her calf. Not eating for weeks, Hating herself.   These are not things to glorify, They should not able to. Be seen clearly,
Today, in Computer Arts I had to present my poster design And with it, I exposed part of my heart. Because even though now I'm fine I can no longer hide that secret part That completes my design
You’ll draw a picture A picture with a twist I’ll use a razor I’ll draw that picture in my wrist ………………………………………………..
The words scathing my ears, pouring from your mouth You assume that I do not understand But I suppose you haven't taken the time To see the scars beneath my hand   You don't know my struggles
I told him... "Pretty girls don't have scars," And I cried. With a finger under my chin, He made me look into his eyes. He told me that's what makes me beautiful And kissed every tear
these are tumultous times when men murder, rape, war, and kill yet escape from there crimes its sad indeed for this be god's will is it in my head this blood needn't be shed is everyone to wind up dead
Faces bleedAs the silence screamsA happy tune no more.A love of hateA hate of loveFirst and last of war.Hearts burn with earthly fire.Babies scream for,Children cry for,Fathers look for,
My skin still carries your scentAnd I cant stop smelling it. Your lipsAre just thatBecause you have no love
The most obvious one, here, on her face: From left eyebrow straight down to her jaw. It is straight. Knife. She hates it. It marks her permanently.
    Abduct our minds. Bend them in two. Take our hearts, And bruise them too.   Your dirty hands, Gripped red soil, Then you checked our pulse   With envious words,
scars are something i have plenty of, some are bigger than other but they're all caused from something i've once loved and mine are usually worse than anothers, all my scars tell a story
living, breathing- Screaming Out. silent......quiet beating Loud.   the questions Whirling the Self Doubts, the eyes once blinded;         opening now..  
How  am I supposed to focus on all the good in life when I am ever so  Numb  like the scars on my wrist, the ones that never made it past my skin Frantic 
Behind my bedroom door, I hear screaming and fighting; Someone always ends up crying. They try and hide it, But from were I sit, It gets louder, and louder; Overwhelming my ears.
The darkest night hides a chilling truth, Invisble to even the most adept sleuth. Creaking, whining, shrieking, twining, Sneaking through the depths subliming, Reaching out to the gleaming sun,
don't touch me! don't look at me with your eyes! let go of me! times like this scars reappear. fall on the cold ground, embrace the air, curl in a ball. try to feel anything other than you.
             Razors Slice            Wrists Bleed         Red Runs Down the Drain.        All of this           to get my mind         to stray away from pain.        My torment gone
If I told you goodbye, Would you miss me? If I died tonight, No one would miss me. I'm alone in this world, Wandering. A lost soul, Who hopes to be found, But knows, That hope is futile.
  I love nights like this when the sky is opened into my window  and the world comes trickling in. I feel vines and tentacular veins pierce my skin and it's okay because yeah I'm not so tough as I look
Il est de la plus riche couleurCelle d’une cerise mûreOu peut-être d’une fleurQu’on donnerait à son amoureux.
Are you proud of me? I wanted so badly, to be, what you wanted me to be. I've tried, I've struggled, I've fought, And I've stumbled.   Am I proud of where I am today?   I'm here,
On my body there are scars Ugly, hideous scars These scars feel detached As if they are not mine But are simply leeches Unwilling to let go On my body there are scars
some have battle scars some trip and fall some dive to the ground to make the winning score some rub against the brush on an adventure some have mean cats  The scars I have hurt the worst  They heal in a week or two But the scar in my head lasts f
She is the ghost haunting you, She created the fear. She wasn't the victim Which is why you and I are now here.   She was the one cracking the whip, She broke your fragile skin.
Tell me.  If it's all in my head...   Then why is it written all over my body?
Empty promises, broken hearts, And tragic endings; they're all just parts Of where we live and who we are But the wounds still tend to scar They leave a mark on mind and soul Preventing one from being whole
None of us are what we seem to be; we have our scars. We carry secrets, pain, baggage, feelings, and thoughts That we keep hidden away from the unforgiving world.
A blade, shining in the sun, reflecting A thirst, hunger and power of what was Upon the face, a cut, a scar, sight marred Half a world of dark, half a world of light A weakness, a strength, a curse, a cure, hers
My heart is heavy, with sorrow and grief It needs time to heal It is desperate, starving for relief.
Subjugated to emotional heights, My frail pre-teen mind succumbed to the sweet, underlying comfort a typewriter provides. I could throw my heart at something, without it being ripped to shreds,
If you saw her walking, You wouldn't guess. Her smiles conceals, She's screaming inside.
That one kid that one kid who is quiet and kind that one kid who is different in the mind that one kid who is oft ignored that one kid who couldn't see why.
She was all yours. She was everything you wanted, Worth the world and more. She took care of you so well. Always waiting by the door. She was your number one fan, Begging for an encore.
When I was little I would prick myself With pins And needles Waiting to bleed. When I was older I used bobby pins Soft tips torn off. I would gouge And dig And bleed.
(poems go here) You don't accept the truth. Can you not see me. Can't you see I'm broken. I'm scattered sand. Showing my emotions through my eyes. The scars and bruises on my skin.
I love the way your scars are white and raised, like stickers left on the wall of a house by someone who doesn’t live there anymore, waiting to be peeled off.
Put down the knife another day is coming No more red drops and keep life going Battle scars are worse in the heart, I know Don't let them on your skin, don't let it show What I'm asking you is please be strong
My fingers are tingling For you Your smooth skin And liquid personality Like fire, taking control Quick whip of authority When needed, of course. Leader. Hawk, is what they call you
A green-skinned apple in your eye, An autumn sunset, a sweet pink sky, Who, with that mouthful of stars, Breathes summer on your meanest scars, And, with those long-fingered hands Always busy, lets you stand:
the scars on my back show the long nights i had to work. the scars on my back show the srtuggles i been through the scars on my back show the pain i indoored when i lost my grandmother
They say smiles fix everything, And I’d like to agree. But that’s hard to do, When my smiles kill me. Looking down at myself, I feel hatred, disgust. Looking in to myself, I don’t know what to trust.
The little details here and there The little details no one hears I feel as if no one cares they just worsen my fears living just doesn't seem right wondering where to run
Forever. Among the others . . . Crawling up my leg. A shark-bite? No. A deep slice Into the juicy insides Of a pale, goose-bump-covered watermelon. Sticky juices once oozing from its edges.
(poems go here) The sun Reveal the scars on my heart an begin to make my tears glisten in the morning sun I say to my self why does it take for me to distance my self from you to understand the pain I feel in the open scars the begin to define me
Afraid it will come back Up like a shadow Up like his smoke Rolling in with the tide Even when I hide I'm afraid it will find me I'm afraid I'm still to week to fight Because I remember how
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