my scars

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 06, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 06, 2016



In my mind

I imagined

His scent

lingering in the air

and my body craved it,

had begun

To grow accustomed to it,

as if it were the only oxygen I needed,

I inhaled deeply,

losing myself,

if just for but a moment.

He laughed, I breathed.

He laughed

I breathed

he laughed


"I want to see your scars"


My eyes open wide

And I slowly look up at him

In awe and confusion.

I must not have heard him right

That can't be what he said

The scent must be getting to my mind

He repeats "I want to see your scars" a little louder this time

Voice clear

I'm taken aback

We sit in an ocean of silence

That I would gladly drown in

But he starts again

"I, I really want to see..."

"My scars"

I say

bitterness that I didn't know was there

comes leaking out of my mouth like vile...


Begins running through my veins

like a deadly chemical waste

runs through a sewer


I have become toxic

And he doesn't understand why


You see, he asked to see my scars

And seeing my scars

Means uncovering more of myself than Im willing to right now.


See you don't understand but my scars are not some pretty little lines that mark up my

Arms and legs

My scars, are sharp and jagged

and not for the faint of heart

Or the easily shaken

Or the one who can't handle the whelps and gashes that I have created blindly along the way

Some as if by mistake


My scars run deeper than what you see on the outside


my inside, has been hiding them from myself for as long as I can remember


Shying away from mirrors and cameras that

catch me, not naked, but with clothes on. With shirts pulled all the way to my wrist

Jackets being worn in the third week of July

Hiding healed skin

Trying not to lose track of my mismatched pieces


You see I don't have a problem with what can be seen on the outside

Its the insides that don't want to be exposed

So I hide myself and my scars like negatives in a dark room

Hoping that the light never comes to mess them up

Because my scars, although long healed from my skin, continuely burn marks into my soul


Deep and ugly marks turned purple from the intensity of the heat that's been repeatedly placed upon them


Ones in which I often ignore


Ones I'm not sure you're prepared enough to handle

Marks of hate, pain, low self-esteem, rejection, depression

And must I go on??

You keep telling me that you want to see my scars but are you willing to really see them??

Are you willing to REALLY see them??

Are you willing to reopen this flesh and see what lies underneath?

Are you willing to face the bloody truths that I hide under clean lies??


You want to see my scars????

Well, here's the knife

Cut away

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