How I Died [Selected Poem]

CARVED SCARS

Here on my arms engraved the mark that I made.

I cut with a blade when I was so low, overwhelmed and feeling numb.

To punished my body for being such a mess.

To feel an alternative pain rather than nothing.

To struggled physically the sufferings that my heart could bare no more.

But here are my testament that I must confess.

I may lie, if I told you that I'd seen this scars beautifully.

For, seeing these carved scars from my past would leave me in the deepish guilt that I may repent eternity.

And the idea of needed to wore a long sleeve, a wrist band and a long pants, that deprived my sense of fashion,

Constantly left me in a great humiliation.

But I no longer erased the traces of these scars.

For it was carved meticulously deep.