Poem -
Scars
The marks on my wrists
aren't hard to miss.
But they're just from cats,
playing, as is their daily act.
The marks on my shoulders
are much bolder.
They are old and new
and are far from few.
Some are bright white
and shine in the night.
The others are red and pink
no older than a week.
They continue on down my back
concealed by my hair, jet black.
Self inflicted they all are
each and every thin raised scar.
Pain brings me solace
leaving by body far from flawless
but I don't mind
most people are obscenely blind.
I don't wish to die
and all I do is cry.
So the pain brings me peace
and there is no telling when it will cease.
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Comments
Scars tell our story. I understand the need to replace physical pain with the emotional. I'd be lying if I said it stops, but...it's a very personal honest write. And really well written
Yes they do. They serve as physical reminders of certain events in our lives, both emotional and physical scars. It replaces the emotional with physical only for a short period of time. Unfortunately emotional wounds take much longer to heal than physical ones. Thank you, I was a bit weary about posting it but decided I had nothing to fear. It's just truly a part of my soul. Thank you, I'm glad you thought so
xxxxLily
"I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real..." Johnny Cash
When the writing is fearless, words take form of knives. Anyway well done
Mind blowing, I love this piece. Your writing speaks to us all. Thank you for sharing! You have a gift.
Diana.