Get Your Premium Membership

Painting Scars

The scars on my arm and my skin tell a story, A story of hurt and pain, The ghosts of my past, the torture of my history, The fear that comes back again, The urgency of emotions scream to be out, On the outside looking in, There's only one way to release this pain and doubt, To let it bleed from my skin, So out comes the razor, to stop all my shaking, To let go feelings inside, So tired of just wearing my mask and faking, Sometimes I wish I'd just die, So don't try to tell me it's wrong that I'm cutting, You look at me with despise, Don't you know that doing this, is the only thing, To avoid my own demise!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 8/5/2010 11:03:00 AM
good write,read my poem scars and stains i used to cut to,and the bad inside never blleeds out it only screams and shouts
Login to Reply