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Smiles May 2014
Welcome to a world full of individuality
But don't let that fool you *** it's full of hypocrisy
So hold on dearly to your sanity
Or else you'll end up a reject thrown out just like me
Because people are only as good as society let's them be
And soon you'll see
The true beauty
In Anarchy
Because sometimes you gotta bleed in order to see clearly
Behind the masks of those who appear so cheerfully
There are scars so deep with souls so sickly
Minds corrupted by mental disease and PTSD
We don't get comfort no we don't get empathy
We can't be dragging people down because we're not their responsibility
So we continue to sing our songs on this sinking ship lost out at sea
Because we couldn't be what they wanted us to be
Nameless May 2014
I was a dare devil,
I always raised the level,
I got bruises and scars,
But that didn't stop me from going bizarre

I would jump and skate,
But it wasn't my fate,
I have to find something else to do,
Before I don't have clue
© Sasha Morales
Wednesday May 2014
Summer raining on the Eastern seaboard
I liked you better before November, personally

There are metal shards floating in this bathwater
Their own tiny islands of pain
A mirror in shards face up on the floor
Guess that is just another 7 years of bad luck

Pennies are dropping into the bathtub
Copper going plink plink plink
Tiny rivulets running their paths

That's just the sound of my lifeline going down the drain, again
Smells like metal and tastes like pain
Red river gushing from my veins

Locked door trying to staunch the flow of secrets
Head swimming to the tile floor
clink clink clink

Scars these days open so easily
Like the Raven said, Nevermore
Anthony Perry May 2014
Hello mom, I know we haven't talked in a few years because I left without saying goodbye but I've been thinking of you a lot lately, I'm sorry I left in a hurry but I wasn't strong enough to stand there and vent my reasons without telling a lie and  I'm starting to regret it, well I dont know I might be. I saw my reflection in the window of a passing car and it reminded me of when you would make me stay home from school and lock me in the closet filled with mirrors after you would beat me and get too drunk to stand, I remember going to school after a morning when you'd turn up the heat on a faucet and place it over my hand, I used to wait in anticipation for when the skin would boil, bubble, peel, and fall. How could you think I'd forget about it all? Like when it would rain and I'd run outside light as feather, excited to swim in 30° weather when it was really you holding my face in a giant puddle filled with bugs that would slither out from the gutter runoff so can you blame me not being able to keep it together? I grew up with everything except love, every time I tried to chase the idea of it you would wrap plastic around my head but I was so small that I never realized it was just a rubber glove, I remember everything. I tried so hard, I even tried when I saw you crying one night after you got beat by some man I put my hand on your shoulder and said it'll be OK, you screamed then bent my wrist back and threw it in the blades of a moving fan, that's the real reason why I left and ran. I know I missed your funeral but I dont feel bad, I'm sitting in a hospital talking to specialists and they keep saying I just dont remember anything and that's what really makes me sad but its fine because when I get depressed, mad, or want to swallow a fist full of pills I just look at the scars you left on my legs when you pushed me into an oven when I was four. How can they say I dont remember anything when I can recall everything? I dont know but I'm writing this letter so I can clip it to the crime scene video they show me every day of your body parts washing up on shore near the old harbor, but I guess ill probably just forget until I see this note again so I'll have to repeat the same routine forever and force my brain through this mental labor.
This is only a representation of a nightmare I had when I was younger.
Quiet May 2014
each of these scars on my skin (paper)
tell stories and my fingers touch them to hold my memories
because i remember opening up and i hated telling anyone
how i felt
and what it was like to see my insides pour out
and that i still wanted to do it,
i still wanted to decorate my arms, thighs, stomach, hips, heart
with little pink red purple red lines
i remember when he grabbed my arm and i cringed and flinched and ****** air in through my teeth and my chapped lips
and you knew
through all that blue fabric you could see
my scars

r.c.
ew this was bad
jennee May 2014
I need to be saved
And wake up in someone else's arms
Feeling the absoluteness of security and love
Whether be covered in tattoos or scars
I'll accept you wholeheartedly
You're every embrace and flaw
Every feature I fall in love with
And everything else in between

I promise you this

But in return would you accept
Someone in need of saving?
Someone as ****** up as me?
Someone covered in detailed flaws
And darkened scars
From thighs to wrists?

n.j.
Kiana Grace May 2014
Sharp rocks mark my skin
Ice water fills my boots
There is a distinctive high whine
followed by a deafening explosion
4 dead
7 injured
The screams and shrieks
of men
who feel like boys
calling for their mother
or for a god
are drowned out by the
fast paced “clickclickclick”
13 dead
10 injured
In March I went on a trip to tour the battlefields and beaches of Normandy, and it was a great experience that impacted me strongly. Learning about the brave men and women who suffered in the war gave me a new appreciation for history, and a new gratitude towards those who lived through it.  This poem is about the landing on Juno beach.
Wanderer May 2014
The heat in the room is smoldering
sweat beads on my forehead
and the fan can't keep up with the rising heat of summer
Her arms are still covered though
and i start to wonder
Who hurt her so bad?
So bad that tears weren't enough
that only a blade could make her feel
Human again
So bad that the pain couldn't all be held in one place
So bad that the scars on the inside had to reveal themselves
to the outside worls
forgotten May 2014
All alone in this state of desperation
am I the only one, willing to fight
As if im waiting at this old station
waiting to be spiritually elevated into flight


too bright to be trapped inside this mediocrity
waiting to escape the grasp of this city


I can feel the potential within me
my teachers claim that it is and has been
Dead

My parents ask only for me to conform
I deep down know that I will never
Instead I ask for a complex reform
No
I beg for change

We are being blinded every day
I feel my eyes slowly closing
I feel my nails digging into my eyelids
Begging for them to open

I then wake up
and do exactly what the system has taught me to do

With remains of the abundance of scars
on my eyelids

and no change
fight the system.
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