There's scars on my body
Spread out like a constellation of stars;
A set of man-made galaxies
That nobody's allowed to see,
Because seeing them
Means something horrid to me
Sometimes I trace my scars
With a marker stained red -
Marking where my blood could've gone
And where my blood should've went.
I trace again with my tip-bitten nails,
Hoping it's enough for what I meant.
I hate staring at my scars.
Shadows of mistakes I've made and done.
Watching as I try -
Day after day -
To stay away from the pain,
Because they're stories I can't afford to say.
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Comments1
brave write
'scars to your beautiful' comes to mind
our ugly, can sometimes blossom
into that which grants us relief
'when you've reached rock bottom'
it's easier to follow the only path
left to you...
(or something like that, what do i know)
thanks for sharing, I thought this was well written, dear Poet
thank uu :))
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