We are such beautiful ******* disasters
made up of ink and tears
with pages turned black from our souls
Dissolving ourselves
into every word we carve out
we are disasters
born of the expectations of life
from the world
we so heavily bear on our shoulders
trying to make it
one more minute
one more day
asking the world
if we had achieved their approval
our scars are our battle cry
our ink-stained hands are our war paint
we are
beautiful
*******
disasters
created by a world
who never truly cared
about how we would turn out

Here’s to the feelings that flow
through my veins,

here’s to the love whose trip
was a lot of pain,

here’s to the days
where I am in vain,

and here’s to your heart
that I cant seem to obtain.

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived