Do you know how when you fall, the pain only lasts for a little while?
A small scrape, just a cut, on your knee for all the world to see
Bleeds for just a short time before it closes, healed
Throughout our lives we get these tiny cuts
On our knees, on our arms, on our feet and hands
Some get them on their stomachs while others get them on their chests
One might have a cut on their face or another on their thigh
But either way, they heal time after time
Mine scar
Over time they do not heal, but if only have closed waiting to be reopened
A small promise kisses them gently, sweet words of encouragement that you will be better
You will do better
You have to be better
These words, they hang off my body like a draped curtain of expectations
The cloth is see through, if caught at the right glance, but other than that most are blind
Blind to see what is on the other side
I hide my cuts, not exactly ashamed, but not proud of the weight I let rest on my frame
The world sees what it wants to, but to see me would only add on more pounds
Heavier and heavier would the blanket get, eyes watching and staring that cause more scars than a war ever could
They don't understand but claim they do
They know better, they insist, and so they do
By default, I am flawed, but a model on the production line cannot be broken before being sold
The one before is inspected and criticized for its molding and outlines
These fuel the fire
It acts out, does the opposite, and falls
A fall from grace or whatever it had been clinging to
And down it tumbles to the ground where it will eventually shatter
Broken. Uninspired. Wrong.
They had no chance to fix their cracks before they were deemed unreachable
And ashamedly I find myself no longer watching them drop
What they've left behind is difficult enough
Next up is me
I stand clear, formed for what they expect, and jump to react the standards of pretty
The bar is too high from what the eyes have set it to be, and my pride hits the sharp line of "not good enough"
Don't be like them before, the world screams out, shoving me to the side
A cut appears on my arm, but I've not the time to worry
Words rain from the sky and they sting as it meets my skin
Letter after sentence leaves rakes of ripples on me, breaking down the clay I've been formed of
It only ends when I stare back, stepping away from the lines my feet stood in
Step by step
Inch by inch away from their rain
I cry, screaming back that they do not have any right to declare myself wrong too
The world is allowed to judge my skin and size of my scars, but to be scanned by forceful eyes searching for flaws is setting one up for disappointment already
If I am to be a disappointment, allow me to deem what is high enough and what should be met
I am not her
Her is not me
The models that stood ahead are off the assembly line, already past their prime and outdated
While they bear less than me, that does not make my pain any different
And with shattered pride from hitting the ceiling which they set too low for failure, I rip the cloth in two
The cloth becomes a thousand lines of razor wire, slicing with the grace of a waterfall against my reddened flesh
Blood is spilled but I stand strong, if not for those before but those after myself
Models that would pass inspection long after I'm gone, resetting and restarting in the world of expectations
The air feels good against that what's been open, if not stinging be welcomed
An apology from those that glare you'd think would be expected, but it's not required
While they watch, angered and twisting with hurt, I step off their assembly line
No longer will I be compared and inspected
You know how when you fall, the pain is only supposed to last for a while?
Time heals all wounds, but it's okay if yours takes a little longer
Years may pass, or just a couple of hours, that doesn't make it any less of a wound
What you do to heal it is up to you
If you wish to show the world your scars, stand next to me and we can clean each others together
The world is a war we don't have to fight alone
No matter what the production line requires
They are not you
And you are not they
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts, Emotions, Change
PoetryA collection of poetry, nothing too special but maybe you've felt similar to these words before. CW: Strong language & themes/suicidal mentions
