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Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, old scars don't hurt anymore:--\


you think the stain is stained

maybe your pain is pained

the reason not the same

my mind not like before not sane

close to the ear

hearts too near to cope a fear

love you not stares been for the lot

natural expression without a but

really boring lacking a plot


                                                                                     -------ravenfeels
Nicole Apr 2021
There will come a day,
when they will no longer be,
your first thought in the morning,
or keep you up at night.

But while they are,
you mustn't be so ******* yourself,
or rush to heal the wounds.
Our hearts live on with scars,
which run deep scars,
on our human meat.

But you don't have to force them to close,
if you are not ready.
MB Apr 2021
No one notices your scars as you do,
how deep they run, every little twist and turn on your skin

No one else will carry your scars the way you do,
how you hide them so perfectly, to never see the light of day

No one will know how the scars came about,
how you **** a little part of yourself every night, just to feel alive

No matter how many fingers run across your scars,
They will never fully understand your pain, the journey that you took

No one will know your pain as you do and that's okay-
You know what you feel, and no one can take your strength away

But no one else will start your recovery but you.
I see you, and it gets better
Jane Smith Apr 2021
Shattered glass on marble sand,
I feel heat spread on my palm.
Like tiger stripes to the beat of a,
Foreboding distant death psalm.
Enforcement of an oblivious executioner,
Unloving of a careful dawn.
My heart, my soul, my love isn't for me,
It's for something I can't act upon.
Kairi Mar 2021
Smile...
It's too deep to show your scars....
Kairi Mar 2021
Not everyone asks for roses
Nor she asked to pluck the stars
What made her beautiful
He fell in love with those scars...
Wounds may heal
But scars are left behind
The pain is unreal
Not all of us have a heart of steel
No matter how much we try to conceal it
We can still feel it
~28/3/21
anotherdream Mar 2021
If the world fell apart,
Would we have made it this far,
If things were done different,
Would you still be in my arms?

I exposed myself for you,
Just to feel my old scars,
I guess nothing has changed,
You're still a friend of the dark.

If the skies faded to red,
While I lay there and bled,
Would you treat me as your enemy,
Walk away to leave me for dead?
i miss the old M <3
J Mar 2021
I'm fine in the day.
As fine as I can be, anyhow.
Because at least in the light, I'm being watched by the Sun
At least I can pretend someone else has to feel the same way.
I hope no one else ever feels this way.
At night, it's the worst.
At night, I know without a single doubt that I am alone.
the house is quiet, careful with the creaks even
the walls do not turn in their sleep
the nails do not turn on themselves and scrape for some sort of feeling.
the air only shifts when I want it to.
It's worst at night.
Because I have me,
and I have my blades,
and I have some sort of will.
All very contradictory, might I add.
Most times I feel like cutting and burning
is the only thing that makes me
feel real.
Or better.
Only thing that makes me feel.
Addiction is funny like that!
See, you do this thing where you tell yourself
I can stop at any time I want!
Maybe you could
but honestly why would you
It helped
so stopping? STOPPING?
How could stopping possibly be healing?
My scars are not enough.
I need more, I need every inch
I want them purple and searing.
I want them rising like the bumps on the side of the road
they scream
WARNING WARNING WARNING LOSING CONTROL
I wish that I had the strength to get this out.
I want to tell someone, anyone, what the **** is going on in my mind.
Let me try, please for the love of ******* God, let me try.
I am hurting.
hurting in the ways that never let my fingers type fast enough.
Hurting in the ways that I'm only writing because I don't know what else to do
I've lost so much motivation
I've stopped writing as much
GOD GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO
I'm here.
Popping my knuckles makes me nervous.
don't let go don't let go
Touching myself feels like I'm one step closer to doing it
even the simple elbows on my thighs.
Naked thighs.
I traded in the baggy jeans and hoodie for shorts and a muscle shirt
WHY?
Who knows.
Why do I have to feel like this always.
I'm tired.
I'm tired and I think that I just keep getting worse and I can't
I CAN'T
tell you what this feels like
it feels played out
scripted.
each word something to laugh at.
WHY CAN'T EVEN I TAKE MYSELF SERIOUSLY.
I won't accomplish anything.
I'm going to die a failure.
please make me stop feeling so alone
so helpless.
I thought going back to school helped.
Maybe it did for a bit, but not long enough.
I'm tired of putting in an effort for nothing to be returned.
I think I'm going to relapse tonight and I'm scared.
My arm doesn't show the scars
Tough skin layered in the scar tissue.
Nothing like the WARNING WARNING WARNING
Though there's one burn mark.
Maybe I should burn more.
WHAT THE **** IS THIS.
Nothing deep, no rhythm to it
I'm losing whatever talent I sort of had.
the white moon and all the bright stars,
the bitter espresso and all the cold nights,
the unclear intimacy and all the prolonged talks,
the cozy sheet and all the free glimpses,
the hardest fall and all the vague hugs,
the heartfelt love and all the bad kisses,
the wild heart and all the improbable dreams,
the sacred trust and all the naked thoughts,
the correct intuition and all the wrong decisions,
the lost soul and all the hidden scars,
the slow poison and all the forgotten memories.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
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