Forever Scarred
Such smooth, soft skin,
Warm underneath a blade so cold, so thin.
Her arm a canvas, her knife a brush,
The pressure building up, turning the skin flush.
Her life is a mess,
Though if she were to confess,
They would all make her stay.
Pain is her only way
To escape.
And as she looks at her arm,
She's hit by a wave of alarm.
Her skin is torn and scratched
From the years of being depressed.
She will forever have memories imprinted on her skin,
But it's just proof of how hurtful her life had been
And that there's no way of it getting worse.
Her skin is no longer smooth, only ugly and coarse,
But over time, it will heal
Along with her heart.
YOU ARE READING
Forever Scarred - A Poem
PoetryHave you ever put a blade to your skin, feeling the need to hurt yourself? The scars may remain, but your heart will heal... if you let it.
