That sweet girl --
She who looks down on her scars,
That girl whose name I'm prohibited to utter.
She looks down at her scars and she aches
And she aches from crying until 3 in the morning
When she felt accustomed to the dark,
When the dark was the only thing she could feel,
When her parents didn't love her,
When that boy broke her heart.
Sometimes,
She looks down at her scars and she cries
And she cries because she still sees them
She still sees them as the trails of blood at 3 in the morning
When she shook with her crooked smile,
Until she moaned “Oh my God”
And went to clean them up.
Sometimes,
She looks down at her scars and she's numb
And she's numb just like she was
Like she was in the moments which precursed them
When she stopped to stare,
At nothing in the dark
And proceeded to cause new feelings.
Every day,
She wakes up to a body she's not happy with
And she looks at herself in the mirror
Like what she sees is only horror and it's not just the scars
It's the mole on her skin, the stretch marks, maybe that freckle on her neck --
And then her scars
And she takes shelter in her clothing.
Once in a while,
She has a bad day to which she wears her favorite shirt
And she reserves it and wears it because it tells the truth
It tells a truth she needs to hear but she doesn't believe in
It's everything she needed to know, when she was alone at 3 in the morning
And she wears it
It keeps herself sane.
I am that boy,
That sweet boy --
He looks down at his scars and he aches
And he aches from crying until 3 in the morning
When he felt accustomed to the dark,
When the dark was the only thing he could feel,
When his parents didn't love him,
When that girl broke his heart.
But you see,
His scars are different --
He looks down at his scars and he cries
And he cries because he still sees them
He still sees them as the memories, both good and bad, burned forever in his mind
Then he shakes with his crooked smile,
Until he moans “Oh my God”
And he eventually finds his “happy place”.
Sometimes,
He looks down at his scars and he's numb
And he's numb just like she was
Like she was in the moments which precursed them
When they both stopped to stare,
At nothing in the dark
And proceeded to cause new feelings.
But the truth is,
It never should have been this way
Their scars are only battle scars
Battles in which they won, battles in which they lived through --
But when they both stopped to stare,
At nothing in the dark
They proceeded to cause new feelings.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
That sweet girl --
She who looks down on her scars,
That girl whose name I'm prohibited to utter.
She looks down at her scars and she aches
And she aches from crying until 3 in the morning
When she felt accustomed to the dark,
When the dark was the only thing she could feel,
When her parents didn't love her,
When that boy broke her heart.
Sometimes,
She looks down at her scars and she cries
And she cries because she still sees them
She still sees them as the trails of blood at 3 in the morning
When she shook with her crooked smile,
Until she moaned “Oh my God”
And went to clean them up.
Sometimes,
She looks down at her scars and she's numb
And she's numb just like she was
Like she was in the moments which precursed them
When she stopped to stare,
At nothing in the dark
And proceeded to cause new feelings.
Every day,
She wakes up to a body she's not happy with
And she looks at herself in the mirror
Like what she sees is only horror and it's not just the scars
It's the mole on her skin, the stretch marks, maybe that freckle on her neck --
And then her scars
And she takes shelter in her clothing.
Once in a while,
She has a bad day to which she wears her favorite shirt
And she reserves it and wears it because it tells the truth
It tells a truth she needs to hear but she doesn't believe in
It's everything she needed to know, when she was alone at 3 in the morning
And she wears it
It keeps herself sane.
I am that boy,
That sweet boy --
He looks down at his scars and he aches
And he aches from crying until 3 in the morning
When he felt accustomed to the dark,
When the dark was the only thing he could feel,
When his parents didn't love him,
When that girl broke his heart.
But you see,
His scars are different --
He looks down at his scars and he cries
And he cries because he still sees them
He still sees them as the memories, both good and bad, burned forever in his mind
Then he shakes with his crooked smile,
Until he moans “Oh my God”
And he eventually finds his “happy place”.
Sometimes,
He looks down at his scars and he's numb
And he's numb just like she was
Like she was in the moments which precursed them
When they both stopped to stare,
At nothing in the dark
And proceeded to cause new feelings.
But the truth is,
It never should have been this way
Their scars are only battle scars
Battles in which they won, battles in which they lived through --
But when they both stopped to stare,
At nothing in the dark
They proceeded to cause new feelings.
