I am not the hands
that held me. I am my own
hands, scars, and bruises.
The ashes of your fire that burnt
me adorns my heart,
like a sweet laced with poison.
Among the vultures that lurk
in the shadows of mistrust,
I seek out my missing pieces.
The days that were broken mirrors,
left the scars to last an eternity
as I fixed them with the gold of silence.
The scars heal, yet they remain
to scare away rays in the dark
as my blood runs cold.
The scars that remain speaks my resilience and strength I gathered to come back to life from the pile of ashes.
Never be ashamed of your ashes , the ashes that made you.
Words never said
Only written down
Never seen by anyone
The smile on my face
It's only fake
My happy attitude only comes from force
Leave it to me
To see a tool
A box cutter
And only think about stealing the blade
Not for cutting a box though
Silence is the loudest scream
Tell that to everyone else
Not on paper but skin
Not with ink but blood
Never to go away again
Don't forget to purchase your very own copy of my book, "Digging Graves in Flower Beds," by Alexandria Grigsby
Link in Bio!
I reveal to you
The scars I've always tried to conceal from you
I make a deal with you
That if you break me I promise I won't heal from you
I barely showed you the cracks in my heart and you said you'd help me when I fall apart but words are just that they are empty and cold and you left me behind which is just what I told you would happen. Again and again and again.
You found the parts of me that were still tender, caressing my wounds to make me feel better, then dug a knife into my exposed skin proving to me you're exactly like him. Again and again and again.
With the steel blade you carved out my heart, I'm left again hollow like I was at the start, but it's my fault for letting you in, yes it's my bad you showed me you'd win. Again and again and again.
Maybe one day when my body grows numb I'll meet someone who sees everything I've become and loves every part of me, broken pieces and all, someone who'll hold me when I seem to fall. Again and again and again.
I conceal from you
The scars I've always tried to reveal to you
I break a deal with you
That if you love me I promise I won't heal from you
She is full of words riddled with scars...
She is full of scars riddled with pain...
But yeah she is still standing...
She is still smiling...
And she is still beautiful just the way she is...
there was always a comfort,
fabricated as it may have been,
in the way I knew how bad it was
just by the footsteps
I told you I was not easy to love
did you tire of my honesty?
I knew you would leave from the start
i cannot take back the words i say
and swallow them up
as to make them sweet for your ears.
i cannot make my pain sweet.
i cannot take the blood and push it back into my body from which it has bled.
i cannot make the bitter taste disappear with lovely words that sound hallow.
i cannot hallow myself out,
make room for your words that push me aside.
i cannot make room for you,
for your words are a knife to my body,
a scar i cannot heal,
a pain that will never go away.
i cannot write the sweet without the bitter,
i cannot be your poet with my lips sewn shut.
27 août 2020
It was the midnight hour
She was running the register
Great smile with a pixie haircut
That is when I noticed
Her history exposed
In tiny cuts
From wrist to elbow
Scars bubbled over her smooth skin
I tried not to look
In her silence
I knew she had caught me