"scarless" poems
She's got red hearts everywhere
A blush here or there,
Never a hair out of place
She's a girl filled with grace
God given love
From somewhere up above
And I know
I could never compare
To her perfect skin
Scarless but plain
Somehow she remains sane
And I'm lost in my thoughts
With hands bruised and bound
Down to my sides
Bleeding from base to tip
My wrist falls limp
Against his grip
And maybe it's meant to be this way
And maybe I'm supposed to go today
And maybe
I don't want this anymore
Because the memories won't fade
From stained cheek with blood rimmed eyes
And maybe I don't want to look in the mirror ever again and see a dead stare
Looking back at me
Because maybe
I don't want to see ever again
I don't want to feel this pain
I don't want to let this heart beat another day
When all I know is
I could never compare to the girl
Who throws her heart everywhere
But still I wish
I could be something worth jealousy
I know I'm worth a grave
Six feet under ground
Where I will never have
To see a dead gaze looking
Back at me..
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
Who says oceans are deep
It's your exquisite eyes
Who says sugar is sweet
It's your soft soothing voice
Who says nature is nurturing
It's your electrifying touch
Who says flowers are beautiful
It's your scarless smile
Who says rainbows are colorful
It's your exotic expressions
Who says nobody is perfect
For me It's flawless you
Who says dreams can't come true
'Cause mine is in front of me for sure
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 3:28 AM UTC
I used to loathe when tired, those who erred to disregard the pull of thoughts towards the complexities that make us who we are. Or perhaps the tug they never feel, the stinging ***** within the soul. That scratch that must be raked by nails until one feels they fin'lly "know."
I loathed the hedonist's sweet relief
The gratification and tunneled vision
The scarless frames, the husks they may be,
The innocence of things unseen-
I once would wish that I could be so null to that which mattered most. Its relative, but even still I wished that I was like those folks.
11:36p
8.28.18
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
Veterans of war show off their scars
Telling their frightening tales of battle
The say " right here, in this very spot
Is where the age old bullet was shot"
But what about the others
The girls with troubling pasts
That haunt their every hour
They sit in the corner clad in black their expressions turned sour
And when the pieces of themselves
Come some what back together
Like the veterans they have scars
Only its from their emotional wars
To the eye their perfect plain and pretty
Another person in the crowd
Another nameless happy soul
No sees, no one helps, there is no one to console
Alone they fight their treacherous battle
Friendships lost, loved ones gone
And when it's done the world goes on
To as if nothing was ever wrong
And if that one is found alone
Crying in the corner
They all question what's the matter
Since scarless is her stature
No one questions
No one helps
She has nothing physical to show
Yet there are scars, only emotional, you know
No bandaid can fix the heart break
And the world doesn't know how
To unchain her from the repeating past
And forever it seems this will last
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Your eyes lured me in
I was drowning in your ocean
Your sins are what seduced me
You would kiss every inch of my scarless body
Unaware, that in 1460 days
I would be inundated in them
Due to your violation
Your body
Was my promise land
You confessed all of the pretty things
I wanted to hear
I inhaled you
You were an addiction,
An unbreakable bond
You let your darkness into my life
It seeped in, consuming me whole
It was beyond contagious
You infected me.
I should have put myself in quarantine
Isolated myself from you when I had the chance
I saw the devil in your eyes
So beautiful, yet so dangerous
You stripped the purity from my soul
You got a rush of adrenaline
When you laid hands on me
My scars gave you a sensation of euphoria
Your sick mind made mine ill
You reminded me of how useless I was
Every day I woke up feeling unworthy
Your words left bruises,
Permanently engraved in my soul
You used me
In unimaginable ways
I was manipulated to give you pleasure
I was nothing but an inanimate object in your eyes
You never saw me for who I truly was
Unfaithful was your middle name
You sought thrill in other women
Who weren't me
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 6:35 PM UTC
conversation
Worthy of a hospital waiting room
Your contact leaves my skin blistered
I didn't say it to be romantic
But informative disconnected emotionless your retaliation is the
Balled fist a hand I've studied
I know how the skin lays over that knuckle
Scarless you cross two legs I have known with my hands and my mouth
You turn away as if you didn't hear
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
The rain wears on
your limestone skin
as umbrellas are held
off your center by granite others.
I extend a hand
as if you weren't 20 miles deep.
Advertise a cure
and deliver smoke to gasping lungs under the guise.
In this tenebrific atmosphere
I claim to be brave while clinging to my torch.
Endless succorance performed
and answers given from behind glass and across telephone lines.
I only know of the place
where the pace is kept
to the time of constant mizzle.
Perhaps I could spot it on a map, from far away.
How is one in the Fourth
to help another in the Third?
Folly to believe I could stop the bleeding.
Laughable when the scarless comment on how to suture.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC
You told me I was too good to cut myself,
So I put down the blade, because I wanted to be perfect in your eyes.
But now my chosen method of torture
Is picking up the phone
And scrolling through your ******* Instagram feed
Because seeing how happy you are without me is a scarless form of self destruction.
Because at the end of it all,
I spilled my soul and blood and tears in your name
And mine isn't even worth the waste of your breath.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
I am a really mean person
But that does not mean i cannot be kind
I am absolutely fabulous
But mostly because I'm gay as **** Girls doe
I am very scared
I am anxious
I am lonely
I am loved
But not by anyone here
I was innocent
At one point
I was scarless
Until quite recently
I was able to do calculus
A few years ago
I was productive and active
But I've lost motivation and energy
Motivation is kind of energy
I was nice
I was quiet
I was good
Back in fourth grade
I was smart
But now not so much
I know lots of random facts
But that's not very useful in today's society
Ugh
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
It has taken me years of love to realise the reality of beauty,
that it does not lie on my skin, but sprouts from my mind & soul within.
That being beautiful,
It is not just about a flawless face
Trust me, it's not “cover up your flaws with make up - race”
It is not just smooth hairless skin
It is not just scarless knees & shiny shins
It is not just for bodies tall & slender pose
It is not just for long lashes & on fleek eyebrows
It is not just about a gap between your thighs
Trust me & Chill,
It is not just for plump lips & blue eyes
But Beauty is,
how selflessly you love
how gently you care
how curiously you wonder
how cheerfully you smile
how openheartedly you laugh
how meaningfully you converse
how strongly you feel every emotion
how instantly you connect with every other soul
& most important of all,
Beauty is how bravely you dare to love yourself
even when you believe you are far away from perfect,
in a world, where everyone else seems to be gorgeous.
For the same reason, I believe
We ourselves are the most beautiful person we will ever meet.
Note: to the beautiful person who just read this piece.
Now on, when you see yourself in the mirror
Don’t you dare just see the skin,
But see the entirety of you that lies within
Don’t you dare forget to smile & remind yourself everyday
******* You are beautiful. You effing slay!”
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
you, with your scarless skin & healthy limbs,
breath unhindered by ash & smoke,
you don’t quite understand
the ways i like to bleed. i am not my own
anymore. so many moons have come & gone
since i last belonged to myself. maybe i’m
a mess of me. maybe my kisses sometimes taste
like melancholy
& remind you of a pain you’ve long since
forgotten.
but the tides are turning with my name
spelled in sea foam. this time, i’m no longer
losing. i can trace my healing wounds
through the rough fabric of my jeans
& no longer try
to cut them back open. these nights
there is no salty slick of tears
staining my cheeks, no liquor lingering
on my tongue. winter is passing, & finally
i am thawing.
my palms tremble
with the weight of your presence,
safely held in my heart. you are
a rainstorm threatening to drown me &
i don’t want to have to survive you.
i have lived enough loss to know i’m ready
for the good days.
you & i are not just sunshine & flowers, but
the thought of you is forever burned into my brain,
always occupying,
always there.
darling, i love you endlessly & know
i’m yours.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
Was there a scarless time?
Warm night, spring of '94
Maybe it's all the drugs but
I've never seen such beautiful eyes before.
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 9:56 AM UTC
You’ve got the grin of a liar, and the frown of being caught.
I don’t trust you for a minute, you’re not the person I once loved.
And you’ve been ****** with all your damning, at least inside my mind.
But inside my chest, a grave is being dug.
Rest in peace the girl who loved with open arms, scarless and white;
eager to please, without walls and without weeping.
I don’t know if you’re playing dead, or the coffin’s sealed and shut.
And if you’re being buried, I, too, will have a tomb; RIP the girl you once knew.
Were you always such a sinner, selfish and insatiable and scarring?
I believed you every second, every whisper in my ear.
Take a bow and pack your things, or somehow prove me wrong.
I used to think the world of you, and how beautiful a place was this world with you in it.
I’m running out of reasons and you’re running out of time.
If patience is a virtue, call me a sinner, too.
But now we’re both nearly six feet under and the stars are dimming.
The box of your beloved words to me is burning in my stomach and ringing in my ears;
you don’t care anymore, if you ever did.
On my heart you’ve left nothing but tea rings and bullet holes and burns and cracks.
But what hurts the most is not any of this, but that I still can’t regret a thing.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:44 PM UTC
Pushing through
the rough and tough,
I surge forward and use what little strength I have.
It didn't have to be big,
just very deep,
and I continued to shove through everything,
pushing away, the way one might do when one swims,
I pushed away.
Once the hole was deep enough,
I ****** my mutilated hand
down my clogged throat
and shifted around inside, searching with invisibility
what you finally left behind for me.
I had put it back into my cage,
I am only a slave owner after all,
just to put it here.
No use for it now.
You see where this little piece of **** got me?
Now I don't need it anymore.
I found it and grabbed it limply
as it half-heartedly (haha) began to
grow bigger and smaller,
like the way you used to when you were younger
when you breathed in and out of a paper bag.
I grasped it and stared at it for awhile, this
this thing that was once so
colossal and scarless and innocent and so
so perfect.
It stopped moving.
I threw it onto the ground next to its grave, crushed it, twisting my foot
to do away with this evil little spider that lived in me once,
and kicked all the guts into the hole.
oops, I forget a piece, a thing that vaguely looked like the right atrium,
and I kicked it in with the rest of the crap.
I shoved some dirt into the hole,
covering everything left of this thing that I once called a heart,
and walked away.
Now just watch me come back a couple days later
finding it,
digging it up,
and force feeding it to my cage.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
It makes you wild,
In a sense of nature.
It makes you hallucinate,
In a world of clouded vapor.
You feel trapped,
And almost heartless.
you also feel thoughtless
in a sense of your mind.
It also interfere with what some people
May say,
Your grind.
It’s hard to manage.
It’s hard to control.
It’s painless,
And need none feelings.
It doesn’t care who or
What you are,
But you have to run to get far.
You have to run to catch it.
It makes you go higher
Than a rocket.
It makes you want to
Lock it-
Far away.
The ticks.
The sounds.
It’s unbearable,
By the heart beats
And pounds.
Your sweat drip.
Biting your fingertips.
Biting your bottom lip.
Paranoid.
Your losing it.
The pressure is heartless.
The pain is scarless,
But yet your scared.
Cries trapped in your throat.
Feels like when time fly
Your sorrows are on a float.
No need for a raincoat or a boat.
We’re sinking in with no floats.
Time is still high,
But I’m sinking underwater,
With a weary cry.
The tick and the tock.
The hard bottom of the ocean.
My body-
Hit that rock.
I can no longer hear the ticks.
I can no longer hear my cries.
I no longer have to sit,
And spell the word.
TIME.
Marci H.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 7:59 AM UTC
It starts a slow and silent seed.
A pasture soft, the scarless skin.
Standing in the heaps, the ridges, full of Life.
Stretching it's greens, it's yellows, Oh! the supple sky.
Petal after petal, Leaf after leaf.
Song after song, Dream after dream.
The land loses it's greens, the trees lose their tweets,
and whiteness comes, frozen, her skin.
Suddenly all is replaced, all is buried,
all is white, and all is heavy,
The heart is breathless, cold and weary.
The crackling fire does little to mend this.
But slowly, definitely, it all starts to melt,
At the first rays of the new season, this White is shed
In new birth of seeds, in new birth of dreams,
After snowflakes, the heart is healed.
Mar 6, 2025
Mar 6, 2025 at 3:52 AM UTC
how do you solve a problem like
grieving?
i sat in a dark room for two and a half years
listening to old tapes of conversations with a dead person.
it was cold and unkind and thick with melancholy
and i couldn't find the door in the blackness
and i didn't call for help
and i didn't try to fight my way out.
it was horrible but it was comforting, somehow,
because i could tell there were other people trapped in other dark rooms with other unshakeable sorrows,
even if i was alone in mine.
and it was getting worse.
i should've been getting better,
adjusting to the lightlessness,
feeling around for the doorknob.
but i was sitting still
(and maybe going blind, too)
and here's the part of the story where everything gets better
...almost.
a ouija board grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards her
and it was the last thing i expected.
and a ghost
my ghost
spelled out his name and said hello
and i have never felt so at peace.
he said he missed me and that he was happy now
and my heart was floating in my body
and i was crying, as always,
but they were the happiest tears i've ever cried.
oh my GOD does it feel good to have your soul quieted
after two and a half years of unrest
and things you never got to say
and times you flaked on plans that you wish you'd kept
and laughs and hugs and
it wasn't all fun and games, when he was alive.
it was talking him down from panic attacks
and praying he wasn't hurting himself anymore
and faith that he would thrive
if he gave himself the chance.
it was the loss of innocence and the search for innocence
all wrapped up in the same two shared bodies.
we both tried our best.
and my heart cracked in a hundred places when he left
how do you solve a problem like a dead best friend?
i still don't know.
but a ghost by his name sent me love through a ouija board and told me to get my **** together,
just like i had told him when we were in the same world.
and it's almost three years
and i miss him just as much as i always have
but i think i can handle it now
at least a little better.
maybe next time i see him we'll be scarless and innocent again,
or maybe we'll be just as ****** up
but there's peace in knowing the reunion is coming,
no matter what form it takes.
.
.
.
for lucas, my heart. see you soon enough.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
Depend on the world and your distinctions will
slowly fade into the background- mold to them and you'll
forget your soul. if the majority is all that matters
there will soon be nothing left of the individual.
They tell you they will set you free but they only
want the you that looks good, the you that makes money
the you that says what the rest of everybody agrees on.
They're afraid of what sets you apart. They won't set you free.
Depend on God and strip yourself of every chain
anyone has ever cast on you, throw away every lie
ever told to you, reduce your spirit to its bare bones
let your heart resort to scarless, bleeding love-
God demands obedience and to us that looks like conformity
to us that is scary, "what do you mean I have to give up my
freedom?" but God will break you down so you will see nothing
but Him and you. If you give yourself to Him,
nothing else will matter. So, when the gates of hell
stand against you, and when the world lies and hurts you
and when people tell you who you should and shouldn't be
and when you're told to sit down and shut up and when
they tell you it's "freedom" and "choice" but you haven't seen
anything but the foggy bottom of a glass in a long time
and when the street is cold and lonely and the raindrops fizzle
on your skin, and when the light behind someone's eyes dies
look God in the face, fall into his embrace.
He will tear all the scars from your heart
and you will finally, finally know who you are.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC