Metamorphasize

Beauty From Pain***

Why does everything feel so bad?

People going through everything I've been through would've come out in better shape.

So why am I beaten and bruised?

With scars,

I am too smart for my own good.

Finding the marks I've left from the pain,

trying to feel something,

But wanting to feel nothing.

I have forgotten about them until now.

They lay underneath layers of clothes,

Hidden in the unlikeliest area, an area no one would check

They are there, faded, thin, but there...

No one noticed, I wouldn't blame them,

How could they?

I was meticulous with where I inflicted wounds.

No one saw them,

even in a bathing suit it was hard to see.

How did I have enough sense to hide the marks, but not enough sense to stop myself from permanently damaging my stomach and body?

Beauty from pain,

Hope again.....

Do I want that?

Can I have that?

If so, will I allow it?

The world around me doesn't matter, not anymore.

My whole world is the pain I have inflicted upon myself, the pain I lock within my body,

I'm at my end,

Why do I hold on?

The promise of my endurance becoming a love story pointing towards you Lord,

That is all that keeps me going.

I am okay with dying for my beliefs, is that why I haven't yet,

Because I am not afraid of death, that would be too easy on me wouldn't it?

If I was scared of death would I already be in your loving embrace,

with Aunt Janice.

I feel like slipping away, but here I am... you wont let me God.

I know one day I will be grateful and thank you, but today I wish I could hate you,

Hate you enough to not care, to take my life, but you've ingrained me with respect towards your creation.

My body is my temple, yes, a temple I have damaged but don't have to heart to make crumble.

Not by my hands, I don't want that to rest on my shoulders like all the others that I've carried.