“I don’t want to die without my scars”
Chuck Palahniuk

Scars always tell a story

A story of a fall from a bicycle,

Memories of how your mother’s touch healed.

All scars have a history,

Of wounds that were there,

Some of moments of dark and suffering.

My scars are born of hopelessness.

Of days when my mind ruled over my heart

Each line I carved had a darker recollection, It was an echo of anguish

For each were fabricated by pain that was too difficult to bear.

These scars, some fresh and some old

Recounts the horrors of days

When my heart was broken and it ached

That it felt easier to take up the blade.

I let Pain regain control

Only this was in flesh, because no one could see

My heart’s affliction, my heart’s misery.

Each cut has since grown deeper,

Sharper objects fascinating me.

In those moment,

I let the sting take me to places

It oppressed my heart’s ache, (wasn’t that what I needed?)

And yet, somewhere, these fleshly wounds were not enough

As I desired for more blood.

When those dark moments passed

And, what plagued me became a blemish

It became an ugly mark that drew attention from the world!

I hide, feel uncomfortable and shy away

Struggling with words to explain

But I know the truth, those scars have a story to tell

That no one could grasp or feel.

‘It’s cowardly.’

‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’

‘Why do you seek attention?’

‘What is wrong with you?’

Surrounded by whispers and judgements

I cower from the world

Knowing what they will never know

The demons that breathed within.

‘Help me?’

‘Don’t judge me’

‘Try and hear me out’

For all I scream, I know that

They will never see.

‘People have gone through worse’

‘Why did you do that?’

With time the physical pain has receded

But, wounds inflicted in the heart, they never stopped hurting.

I have accepted now,

I don’t abide by the rules of the ‘normal’

I have built walls impenetrable — for sustenance.

This broken me is who I am,

For these scars are just ‘treasure maps’ that makes me whole

For these scars remind me, they lessen the burden on my soul.

I no longer hear their sneers,

I no longer wait for them to fade,

It’s supposed to be a reminder

That this imperfection is me.

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