For years I was sick
I would burn and hurt
Tortured myself endlessly
In a need for love
I pushed it away
Why was I so different
I would ask so many questions
Now my skin is scarred
And my soul longs for something more
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Author:
bones (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 6th, 2026 20:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
The scars and bruises of love lead to avoidance in this poem. Nicely written.
Powerful piece, my friend. The scars are there, but so is the reaching…that refusal to let hurt become the final definition of a life. Dark, vulnerable, and deeply human. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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