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The scars.
I am covered in them.
The burns
The cuts
The scratches
The bruises
The peeled off  flesh and nails.
They are my t r e a s u r e s.
They show all of the battles inside of my head that I have lost.
They show all of the anger, pain, depression, envy, remorse, guilt, shame, insanity, emptiness, boredom, and tiredness I feel.
They show all of the words I am afraid to say.
They hold all of the I l o v e yous, I h a t e yous, I n e e d yous, and I feel
your p a i n s that I am afraid to even t h i n k at times.
They peek out from underneath my clothing and they rub against everything, reminding me that I am indeed alive and that I am indeed h u m a n.
They show all of the times I've screamed
Been alone
Been scared
Cried
Wanted to die
Had no one to be there
Wanted to stab someone and bash their brains in
Wanted to d i s s a p e a r into t h i n  a i r
Even though they remind me of some of the awful memories,
Being reminded of these memories and the lessons I have learned only makes me
s t r o n g e r
Whatever cruel entity, god, goddess, deity of any kind, gave me this cruel life thank you
You have made me wise
You make me think about how I am not the only person with these problems and how others have worse
But also *******  y o u for hurting so many innocent people and corrupting their
o n c e  p u r e  m i n d s
I will live with my scars and probably add more but I will always think of the cruel fates of others and how cruel the world truly is.
I will think of how grateful I am to have lived and how grateful I am to have not have gotten worse than what I have.
Thank you, you ******* life for showing me the right path
©LogenMichel copyright 2014
Moonlight Oct 2014
I was born different from the rest
With special ability that made me the best
Everyone looked on in fear
And thought me only queer
I can bend the elements can I not
Yet I have never really fought
You tell me that you love me
But then you let me be
I walk alone
I talk alone
And when I've found a friend
It comes to a quick end
I am everyone's shoulder to cry on
I myself can never cry on
I keep my heart open all the time
Yet people still want me to mime
How can I mime my emotion
Does it look like I have a potion?
I'm afraid too love and yet I do
In the end I'm just a tool

— The End —