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Solace Nov 19
god it would be nice to be so ignorant
it'd be really nice to ask that
it would be and so
i'm a little envious.

and, yeah, it's my fault.
i should have foreseen this.
but, by god, use some common sense.
everyone's staring now.

at the spot where my wrists meet the table nightly,
where the bruises line up almost methodically
like the kids in the courtyard.

at the white traces on my forearms,
like maybe i scratched too hard and one nail got caught
like maybe i pick the sharpest nail and rake my skin

at the scabs where my cuticles should be
because i couldn't focus today
i couldn't breathe and that tiny pull and that trickle of blood
made my lungs restart

and i feel like i should thank you
and i'm truly glad you don't know what you're talking about
but until then, please keep your mouth shut,
before you cause any further damage.
it's worse when it comes from your former best friend
like i know we don't talk anymore
but i saw you cry over your parent's divorce
and maybe there's nothing there but
it'd be nice if we could pretend like we still care
even though i know you don't
You want me to take off my clothes
The clothes of my soul
You want me to turn around slowly
Standing bare in front of you
So you can get a good look at everything
You want me to show you everything
But I know what you'll really see
You'll see my
Scars
Bruises
Darkness
Things I've long locked away
Letting few if any see
But I have one question
When I am laid bare
Will you run away?
Will you see how many
Scars
I have and worry they'll cloud my view?
Will you see my
Bruises
And wonder if I'll give you any?
Will you see my
Darkness
And worry that it will spread?
Or would you look past all that
Search for my perfections
They are there
Just few and far between
And if you see my imperfections
(Which I know you will)
And my perfections
What will you decide?
Will you stay?
Or run?
As so many have
Partially inspired by 'Dark Side' by Kelly Clarkson.
Ayesha Zaki Sep 28
Reminiscing old, long-lost memories
that we once lived for,
is like pressing on bruises
that are not yet healed.

The bittersweet pain of our reverie,
seeks to mingle
with the weary, blurred lines
of the so-called 'peace'
we've come to accept.

Maybe it’s not the silence
or the yearning for what's long gone,
but the desire to at least,
for once, feel something
in this slow-burning,
hope-filled fever dream.
It seemed to go on forever, yet I still woke up.
leeaaun Jan 2
another
new year
yet i carry all the same
wounds and bruises
Blake Sep 2023
I can't learn to let you go,
You toy with my bruised used youth,
And I need to need you,

Even whilst the
black and blue spreads.
It takes 6 times
David Hilburn May 2023
Brown temples
Avid, too sore for sense?
Background music, finding what will...
A look of devotion, for a tooth called suspense?

Black wishes
Turmoil is a vaguer clique
Of comment's, sigh's make God's fishes
Just a rue to understand what is...

Grey orbit's
Of miasma, found in a suggestion's field
Known by sight, a bird has wit's
Another bird has seen the sun, and it's yield

Green future's
Vicinity to unity, the poor
Is realm to *****, word's of impurity
Set amid tree's, worth their wars

White death's
Would we save a child's shadow?
Regret as hot, as marvel's lead
Meant only with yesterday's yawn, are we that we are, mellow?
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