My scars are NOT just scars sometimes they remind me of traumatic experiences.
Sometimes people would stare at them with a look so curious, that I myself, would become furious.
Because my scars felt like a punishment of a series of consecutive jail sentences.
They had me Feeling overwhelmed by weariness
So I put up a fence to hide what I believe was my hideousness.
Then my naked eyes realized the true lies, that behinds these marks are where the truth hides
My scars are NOT  just scars they are Evidence of a Wound, evidence that after pain healing must come soon.
My scars are a sign to show Life was adjusted just as a violin being tuned
My scars are not just scars they show that I have gone thru a Transformation.
My scars are not just scars The give me motivation in my times desperation.
My scars aren't just scars They signify even after my trails, I am Triumphed!
My scars are Marks Of my pass History to celebrate even I was hurt I have the victory! For Greater is He that is within me.
My scars are NOT just scars, they show that God was With me thru it all Truly!
My scars are not just scars they are Permanent sacred Marks Of Beauty.

**** had me torn, **** had me scorned; I'm one of the few people who knows how it feels to have on a crown of thorns. Scars on my hands, scars on my feet, had so many plans but they all are now obsolete. Beaten outwardly and inwardly, never had the liberty to be anything more, just a lamb in a world full of carnivores. I am not a God; I am just a man that constantly gets beaten by a rod. The rod of guilt, the rod of shame, I'm starting to wilt, and I got no one left to blame. Faking smiles while dealing with depression, dead on the inside, and barren outside by all the oppression. Just a frame for the bigger picture, maybe instead of focusing on fame, I should've focused on the scriptures. No I don't want to hear your lecture, not here to be a fisher of men, my structure is fine enough dear sir.

Now in conjunction let’s us say amen, let’s us stop with the pretend, this is our time to amend our past mayhem. Bruises on my skin, bruises on my bones, trying not to tailspin, trying to control my hormones. You don't need Sherlock Holmes to figure this **** out, there is no need to doubt, that it is not fun being treated like an expired trout. Can't you see these scars? Oh yeah that's right you to busy looking at the stars! Scars opened up by unlocking the wrong doors, scars piling up from all the years of being treated like a *****. Scars won by wars, scars from running through the fire, scars from peer pressure, and scars from all the held back tears.

So many scars, feels like I’m not even human, yeah I swear I'm an alien from mars. 'Hey, people have it worse than you', well that may be true, it's all relative until it happens to you! Do you know what I've been through? Do you know what it's like being in an environment of lions, when you're a caribou? That's right you have no clue, the worst thing some of yawl ever faced has been the flu. Where-as there is me, who no one takes the time of day to hear or see. Where-as there is me, the one everyone tried to treat because they thought I was a disease. Where-as there is me, and only me, nothing more than one of those 'natives' or in this case 'Cree'. Can't you see my scars? Were you not listening to these bars? Do I have to drop down on all fours for some exposure? Cause when you need help I am one of the first ones to be your boulder.

They say pain won't last, they say that I can get over it in other ways other than constantly getting smashed. Some say that the forecast will clear, that there is nothing to truly fear except for fear. Some scars don't heal, some leave you with Ptsd and if something sets you off you can relive that pain wheel. I wear my scars like they a badge, not prepared to throw it in the trash. My scars make me who I am, it's just another thing in my program. My scars help me relate with others with the same scars, it helps me realize that I'm not the only one dealing with these scars.

We all bear scars in one way or other.
Some from loving someone too deeply and some others from losing someone or something that you cared too much for.
Some scars are intentional while some others exist for stupid silly reasons.
Some we are but some we are not so proud of.

I have scars all over my body.
All over my mind and all over my soul.

I have scars on my brain due to over thinking and over analyzing incidents that haven’t even happened yet.

I have scars on my eyes for shutting it more often, for being blind to things that should’ve been taken care of.

I have scars on my nose from all those endless snobs and sniffles from my horrifying past relationships.

I have scars on my mouth from speaking the truth, only the truth and nothing but the truth.

I have scars on my neck from getting choked up on false love and fake proposals.

I have scars on my shoulders from lifting up responsibilities that I was accustomed to from an early age.

I have scars on my hands from holding onto things that weren’t supposed to be mine from the very start.

I have scars on my chest from my ice cold heart that has been stomped over and over multiple times.

I have scars on my lungs from the “occasional” stress buster cigarettes that I am addicted to every now and then.

I have scars on my stomach from one too many butterflies that flew when we first met.

I have scars on my legs from running, miles away from people and that place I used to call home.

I have scars on my skin from the many tattoos I got done that helps me reassure my self-worth.

I have scars on my soul from trying hard to pull myself together, calm me down and compose myself through the rampant storm that’s been raging in my life.

I have all these scars. All of them.
And they don’t scare me now even though they hurt like hell, at times.
They’ve become a part of me and looking back, they are just reminders of who I was, what I have been through my life and the person it has made me become.
They don’t scare me anymore because they define who I am now.

A survivor.

Laughing and laughing, your mind a never ending joke of insanity.
           Laughing for jokes, laughing for tragedies,
laughing simply because life is full of horrors.

Scars and laughter,
        Your life is described in two words, scars and laughter. Wanna know    how I got these scars? Laughter, insanity, a fathers drunken rampage, all            feasible reasons as to the origin of scars.

         Sinister twisted laughter of darkened rooms,
Laughing and laughing,
           laughing for tragedies, laughing for horrors.
Why are you laughing? Horrors of the world, corrupted men elicit mirth.

Insanity,
           Scars,
      Scars and laughter,
Whose scars?        The scars of the insane man whose laughter haunts
the dreams of men, women, and children.
          Laughing and laughing, why does he have scars?
Scars, a permanent smile for a face too serious.

      Laughing and laughing, laughing for tragedies, laughing for horrors,
Tragedies strike, who’s to blame? The insane man, his mind a never-   ending joke of madness.
      Laughing for jokes, jokes of the corrupt, laughing for tragedies, lost  lives of the innocent, laughing for horrors, horrors he himself inflicts upon   men, women, and children.

Scars, permanent scars,
     Laughing for horrors, horrors he himself has encountered, a psychotic rampage,
             How did he get those scars? His permanent smile, Was it for   laughter? Not laughter, but a lack thereof, only to find the hilarity too late    as his face is marred by his permanent smile.  

       Laughing and laughing, scars and laughter, twisted mind of a psychotic jester,

scars from the question:

why…
            ..so…
                      .serious.

The word scars has always had a negative connotation behind it. A common name for Mental or Emotional injury is referred to as mental scars or emotional scars. Medically speaking scars or scarring is a step in the natural process your body undergoes to heal. Even though the healing is happening when a scar appears it tends to leave behind what some people see as an unattractive mark or area. Emotional scars and mental scars follow the same rules; a broken heart, the death of a friend or family member. All of these things can give us scars of some form. Having many scars myself I can relate with the desire to cover up or be rid of the unattractive areas on my body or in my life. It can become increasingly frustrating when those scars don't fade over time, or take longer to vanish then we hoped for. However this doesn't have to be a bad thing as quoted by a musical group AA-" How Stubborn are the scars when they won't fade away, or just a gentle reminder that now are better days".

I've had my fair share of "scars" whether emotional, mental, or physical. Each one has a different story, each one is riddled with wouldas, shouldas or I wish; but like the choices I've made to obtain them they are permanent. A Great example of scars as a story is the process of tattooing. Tattooing is the process to scar the skin by injecting ink into the second layer of skin causing it to be stained in the patterned it was scarred. People are in most cases proud of their tattoos, yet try to hide the natural tattoos of life. The body is a blank canvas when you’re born. Through trial and error we have been painted with life experience. Where I’m from scars are worn like the patches on a jacket. “I've been stabbed here or I've been shot there" is a badge of honor. Maimed knuckles were on the hands that lead us to adulthood. We grew up believing that our scars were how we were defined. If my face wasn't torn or my legs weren't spotted from the bruises then I’ll never fit in. Although it’s looking beyond the superficial, I was convinced we still were missing something. We were missing the beauty of those distorted knuckles, the grace in that scraped up knee. We never stopped to realize that we were actually bonding over our flawed skin instead of boasting about, "You should see the other guy".

We shouldn't hide behind the outcome of something that happened but instead smile that we learned from it. It took me a long time to realize just how special each blemish I carry truly was to me. When I look at my shin I don't see I fell and it was painful; I see my wife and I playing soccer and she juked right pass me scoring the winning goal. Something my grandmother always said to me, “You’re only as interesting as the scars you can smile at". For me that sums up things beautifully. Bad things happen to everyday people and even when that scar doesn't fade just remember that now are better days. I can successfully say I’m smiling because now these are truly better days.

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.