I'm sorry about the thorns
I hope that these horns
will one day be left to burn

I've danced to my past mistakes
and now the real me is about to wake,
there's no simmering beauty of a lake
that's full of pollution and waste,
I need to forgive and live the human race

I've come to realize my infliction
is based on my bruising afflictions,
and my life needs special attention
as I've burned and axed the bridges,
No-one deserves my own decree

It was an uneven cut.
The type of cut you just know is going to heal badly.
You don’t care about how it will look.
You’re just happy it heals, at last.

It healed.
It didn’t look good.
Just happy
    - It healed.

I didn’t realise it could re-open.

Same place.
Different shape.

Good evening, it seems
I’m swept away by the rhythm of my own awareness
A memory of that day lingers—
you greeted me,
while I blushed.

Days slip into days,
time trickles through minutes,
feelings once faint and unclear—
now you knock,
awakening me when everything is weary.

At ten o’clock,
I write of you
in verses that never find their end.
I pen the final paragraph on a page titled feeling
not knowing why I was in such a rush—
unaware I was falling
into a darkness that never truly forms.

Just one reason:
I’m trying to heal
from the pain that—once again—has pained me.

My scars re-open,
Every time I hear your name,
I wish that they would just heal.

A paper cut, a minor fray,

A reason to bleed, to hurt, to sway,

From the pain of everyday life,

A desperate attempt to take control, to thrive.
A broken glass, a spilled cup of tea,

A justification to cut, to set me free,

From the anguish that I couldn't define,

A misguided attempt to soothe my mind.
But with each cut, a scar would remain,

A constant reminder of the pain,

A symbol of the struggles I couldn't face,

A cry for help, a desperate, silent pace.
One day, I hit rock bottom, it's true,

I realized that I didn't have to hurt anew,

I sought help, I found a guiding light,

Therapists, a friend, a beacon in the night.
With time, with patience, with love and care,

I learned to cope, to heal, to repair,

The wounds that I had inflicted on my skin,

The scars that would remain, a reminder to begin.
I learned to breathe, to meditate, to calm,

To find solace in the present, to let go of the balm,

I discovered that I was stronger than I thought,

That I could face my fears, my doubts, my faults.
The minor inconveniences still came and went,

But I no longer let them dictate my intent,

I chose to rise above, to find a way,

To heal, to grow, to seize a brand new day.
My scars will always be a part of me,

A reminder of the journey I've been through, you see,

But they no longer define me, no longer control,

I am free, I am healed, I am whole.