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J F O 4d
Words stain like red wine on your couch
and you try so hard to erase it out
but remnants will remain
and even when you no longer see it,
it will always exist in your mind
and you will remember,
memories and feelings will rush back
and you wish you could remove that stain--
that scar that won't ever disappear
in your mind as easily as you removed
that red wine.
Be careful with what you say when you're angry or in pain. When things cool down and you say, "you didn't mean it", it becomes hard to believe it because everything was said and done and you can't take that back. Forgiveness can happen but remember that they won't forget it, you permanently scar someone.
"Why on your wrist?"
They always ask
"Why not closer to your heart?"
What they don't see
is that it is close to my heart
it is my most vulnerable spot

For you see;
the tattoo hides a regret
my biggest mistake
and my most triggering space



-j.m.k
πάντα θα σ΄αγαπάω, γιαγιά
the serpent eats its tail
in my backyard
it waits patiently to
scar my back
remove the snakes,
they'll come again
the circle of life
fight back in vain
don't mind them
Cameron Sep 11
It cuts into me as a knife.
Scarring the surface of my soul.

Blood rolls down the blade
Carrying whispers of uncertainties.

It stares at me as it breathes me in,
And I breathe my last.
Erian Sep 10
maybe someday
we'll find each other
making wishes
and counting stars

when we lookup
watching the moon
maybe we'll see one another
with all our flaws
all our scars
all our broken promises
all our fears

maybe someday
we'll find each other
making wishes
and counting stars

i love you for who you are
there's no where else i'd rather be
than in your arms
Rae Sep 2
Slashes and cuts and bruises
You tell me I’m fine and I believe you
I press bandages to my skin and pretend.
Always pretending, always acting
Always saying I’m fine.

It began with a nudge, a slip,
A gentle flick to the ear.
"Dummy"

A tongue, a voice, a honeyed sound that
Slipped into my dreams and cradled my skull-
Until you dropped me suddenly, disappointed when I
Didn’t do as told.
"Ungrateful."

They came often then, thorns and glass in the corners of
My body, so that each time I moved I could not help but
Press them deeper into my skin.
"Lazy."
"Slow."
"Stupid."

The first punch was quick, almost painless
So that I lay in bed and ran my tongue over it,
A rotted tooth that spoiled and
Dripped sour down my throat.
"*****."

The first kick was sharp and jabbed
To the ribs, between the bones with steel-toed boots.
"******* ****."

The first cut was different
It stole blood, so that you put it to your mouth and tasted
Savored the iron and salt I made for you.
"*****."

When your fingers finally curled around my throat,
Something occurred to me.
Did it matter if I was so bruised and battered on the inside
If all anyone ever saw was the outside?
"Better off dead."
Did it matter if I bled or oozed or dripped with hurt
and hungered for love, if no one saw?
You didn’t like what you saw, you never did,
And you were the only one who saw the scars and
mutilated heart. So as long as no one saw,
No one would know. No one would ever know.
Not when my fear wasn’t enough
Not when my pain wasn’t enough
Not when everything I had to give and more wasn’t enough.
As long as no one knew how pathetic I was,
How **** and scarred and utterly disgusting I was on the inside,
Then it didn’t matter.
Steve Page Aug 28
My familiar haematoma
was happy dying,
thinking itself resilient
and settled into the can't
of lasting scaring.

And then the green came
and grew through the wounding,
imprinting its healing,
its green growing with hope
of growth, causing my pulsing
to phase into trusting
for perhaps
a whole new colourful beginning.
From a writing exercise in Stratford Park.
myrrh Aug 18
Stagnant water, motionless fluid
Same flow that life has to it
Any disturbance causes a ripple
All pain will scar, no matter how little
Collect tears to measure the sorrow
Recollect the fears present tomorrow
Inspect the rear from paranoia of what follows
Darkness cocoons your mind & swallows
m h John Aug 8
you picked up the needle gun
and sharpened it with your words,
jabbing it into my skin
changing my color
from yellow to blue
you shaded me dark
and trademarked my skin
with the scar tissue
of everything you had put me through
you then put a stamp on me
that could not be washed off
and wrapped me up in cellophane

shipping me off
to a lonely place

that only exists within my mind
where the sky is grey
and the grass is dead
and the only thing keeping me alive
is the silhouette of hope
shadowing between your webs
Niki Gray Jul 25
Scars on the inside
are prominent to
the one that wears them,
but invisible
to humanity.
Thank you for reading my poems. It took a long time and lots of encouragement from some amazing family and friends for me to finally post my work.  Thank you C. Love, Sheela, Court, Todd and Syd.
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