TW: mentions of sh [self harm], mentions of scars, mentions of scar shame, mentions of hurtful words, slight mentions of blades
(Though truth may be heavy, burdens hard to bear, Self-inflicted pain should never be your snare. Dear reader, know your worth, precious as can be, Listen to these words, from screen to sea. Though it may seem hypocritical, trust this plea, Your life, a cherished tale, too precious to decree. Let these words not fade, unseen and lost in night, For in them lies a beacon, guiding towards the light.)
In shadows deep, where silence reigns,
I navigate these unseen pains.
With trembling hands, I bind the wounds,
In whispered fear, my voice is hushed.
Alone I tread, in this dark terrain,
My heart aches with a silent refrain.
The world outside, so unaware,
Of the torment that I bear.
To speak, to share, is to invite
A storm of judgment, fear, and spite.
For when I dared to break the seal,
Their words were blades, their scorn, too real.
"Selfish," they cried, "and rude, and weak,
Why would you do this, why not seek
A better way, a brighter road,
Instead of this, your self-imposed abode?"
But little do they grasp the weight
Of shadows looming, the cruel debate
That rages on within my mind,
A constant struggle, unkind.
So I retreat to silent spaces,
Concealing scars on hidden faces.
For I cannot bear the thought
Of causing others the pain I've wrought.
Yet in this solitude, I find
A quiet solace, a peace of mind.
For though the world may not understand,
I'll bandage my wounds with trembling hands.
And though I suffer, I'll endure,
For in my silence, I am sure,
That strength resides in every scar,
A testament to who we are.
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of the Unspoken
PoetryHere lies a collection of poems, scattered like leaves, shared in the hope that someone might find solace and know they are not alone in their turmoil. Beware, for these poems are not for the faint of heart; they arise from the darkest recesses of m...
