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I popped one...
I still remember her
I popped two...
She still lingers on my mind
I inhaled three...
I look in the mirror and hate being me
I poured four...
My body still feels much sore
I cut a few strokes
cut the jokes
and my mind was at ease
Then she slept on and on
with her soul at peace
When the night eats your clothes
and the dust settles down
there is a map of beautiful scars,
the etchings of souls that vibrate and hum
where everything waiting is born.
And you won't be forgotten or broken,
they are singing you home on those scars,
all is attended,
everything mended,
as you find your way back thru the stars.
Every scar narrates a story.
Just like every drop of ink illustrates wars fought.
Life's full of stories of all kinds and i love it
someday, years from now
when you are waiting for her to come home
and your mind drifts to thoughts of me
and you like to think that I'm wandering aimlessly
drawing maps out of the past hoping they'll lead you back to me
you should know I've found a new resting place in the stability of someone else
I show him every scar and the stories behind them
and he smothers them in a kindness that cleanses every record of you
I left your memories with my shoes at his doorstep
and I stopped missing you when he welcomed the parts of me
I always had to hide from you
The old walls of my house are permanently stained with brush marks that allowed its paint to slide down their skins. The supporting beams of my roof shake under that weight from the sliding paint, and my floors are thigh deep lakes of bright, dark-souled, red paint.
She wore her heart
On her sleeves,
But do not underestimate
Her power
For weakness.

The fumes
Of the fire
Burn through
Her eyes and flares
Through her blade.

She forged her way
With a crown
On her head
And wearing her scars
Like badges of honor.

She was born
To be a goddess,
Made to be strong,
As the stars will suffused
Within her shine.
Jade 5d
The deepest scars come from words left unsaid,
Everything yearns for freedom.
Even words,
So the longer they're kept from it...
The heavier they weigh.
Do not underestimate
Their destruction.
12/8/2018
A poem about the weight of words.
Breeze-Mist Dec 6
What keeps me off the dating scene
Are the scars that will become seen
Unforeseen consequences of my actions: I can't be a part of college hookup culture because ******* is bound to get really awkward and dark really fast.
Sam Lylin Dec 5
I thought I never could fight back
It slowly turned my world to black
Depression was a cage of bars
Now all that’s left is the scars

I spent years locked away
After time my will decayed
I never dared to take a stand
Too scared to take a helping hand

I don’t think I’ll ever forget
The silence that I still regret
Locked inside my cold abyss
A lonely world free of bliss

But now I can sound the alarm
And I can speak, my mind disarm
These years of pain I can’t take back
But I could dodge the next attack

It took forever but I have learned
That my courage hasn’t burned
I know the scars may never fade
But I don’t have to take that blade
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