Let me tell you about my scars
I still remember the ones that HE made
Where he put his rough hands all over my small body
And whispered in my ear things I would never repeat
The figure gripping my wrists as if his life depended on it
Fighting to catch a breath but air denied me
You may not see them with your eyes
But they're their replaying in my head
Over and over, like a broken record
Make it stop! Please make it stop!
It just won't stop
Oh let me tell you about my scars
I remember the events all too well
The floors shook and the walls trembled
A pounding in my head and burning in my throat unbearable
Her hand against my cheek, I knew it would leave a mark
False accusations that's what she called them
When I told her of the filthy things the man did to me
Mom he hurt me, he hurt you little girl
Why won't you believe me?
I never forgot the look in her eyes that night
Filled with hate and disgust
But let me tell you about my scars
The ones I made in hopelessness
True art on my pale skin
My greatest masterpiece
And don't tell me it doesn't help because I promise you it does
Can't you see the work of an artist?
It's right there, don't you see it?
But don't you see that I can't hide?
I'm not able to escape the monsters under my bed
My nightmares reaching me wherever I go
And the voices in my head advise me
Telling me the things I wanna hear
Without my artwork I am nothing
The little lines and deep colors being my way out
And with my paint brush in silver and my beautiful paint in red
I take you to a world you couldn't possibly understand
So let me tell you about my scars
YOU ARE READING
Random Storybook
PoetryHere are a couple of poems I've written based on self harm, pain, sex, love, loss, and inner troubles that I and many others have been through. They're all separate poems and put in randomly but they all give a different feeling.
