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Scars: a poem

Poetry By: Buttercup12354
Poetry


I think at the end I just began to babble and it's not as good as it could be. If you have any comments on how I should fix up the ending PLEASE tell me. Other than that, Enjoy! Also, if anyone needs help I am here to talk to!


Submitted:Mar 6, 2013    Reads: 59    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Scars.
Some you can see,
Some are hidden.
Some are self inflicted,
Some are caused by others.

You can never judge a person
By the scars on their wrists,
By the way they cover themselves up
By the way they shelter themselves
So they don't get hurt.

We all have scars
Whether we want to
Accept it
Or not.

I have scars,
They are a result of
Both cases.
I do cover myself up,
I do shelter myself from hurt
Inflicted by others.

I am a great actress,
Putting a fake smile on everyday
Pretending to be something I am not.
I know others feel the same,
But I just don't see that.
How can they say
They know what it's like?
They have never walked in my shoes.
Never once saw what happened behind
Closed doors.

They pretend to know me
Know everything about me,
When they have no idea
Who I really am,
What I am truly like.

I am...
There are no words
That can explain me,
completely.
For I am a mixture
Of multiple words.
I am a rollercoaster
Full of emotional...
Chaos.
I am fighting myself
I am my only enemy.
I am the only person that can make me
Happy.
Yet, I can't seem to make myself happy.
I want to be happier,
And at the same time I don't.

I almost used that
Cursed object today,
But I willed myself no to.
Not today, at least.
Hopefully I have the strength to refuse it
Again, next time.
Because I know there will be a next time.
A time where that reflective metal
Calls to me
Calls for me to think red.
To see red.
It is an impulse,
We all seem to turn to.
To relieve some small part of the day,
The week,
The month,
The year.

I guess, I am going
to go against what I said before.
I do understand what you are going through.
Maybe not your exact situation,
But I get the gist.
I understand what it is like to
be enemies with yourself.
To want to use the only thing that
Seems to make us feel better,
When in the end,
We all know it can make everything worse.

Yes I have scars,
Many you cannot see,
But if you really look,
If you're not scared to really look
To stop being ignorant and see
That not everything is what it seems.
That life is not easy,
Maybe then you will eventually
See the scars I hide from the world,
If only to keep up that
Fake happiness the world seems to want.
But again,
You will never truly understand
Me and my situation.
You will never understand why we have scars,
That we hide from the world, because we feel ashamed.
Ashamed of who we are,
Of what we have done.

But everyone has
Scars.
It is not something to take as a
Joke.
It is a very
Serious thing.
And if you judge us by our scars,
Then I am sorry, but you are more
F***ed up then us.





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