Bright star, shine far
Deep scar, leaves mar
I forgot you.
Or, did I?!
We passed through millions of
human sufferings and sea of love
and secret bleeding,
As if hundreds of years have passed in between
through oblivion.
In the meantime, I forgot about you,
like an old scar, without pain,
on my hand or foot.
All day, sometimes eyes catch a glimpse of it and I remmeber,
And sometimes forget to.
I kissed the fall.
Ran barefoot through glass and silence.
Told him I loved him—
even when it undid me.
It was raw.
It was ruin.
But it stayed,
like a scar
worth naming
Image : 3
In water dark, I learn to drown
A silence colder than the sea
The ghosts I fled still pull me up
In water dark
He haunts the edge where I should be
A memory I never chose
Still carves his name inside of me
He finds me gasping, cold, stripped bare
Each time I hide, he leaves a mark
I bleed unseen in wounded air
In water dark
a paper cut,
inevitable no matter how hard you try to avoid them,
everyone knows the pain of it,
yet someone else gets one and you say its only a small cut only hurts a small bit.
when looking at someone you never would never know they have one unless they told you,
it is easy to hide the pain you feel,
its what we all do.
soon enough that pain disappears,
you never even notice when its gone,
you never sit and think about what gave you that cut you just move on.
what if you cant,
what if its all you think about.
what if you still have a scar from the paper cut not letting you live without.
when you wake up, when you sleep,
you think about what has cut you so deep.
yet again no one sees that paper cut in you,
nobody knows that pain it has put you through.
you know what I’m talking about,
that feeling when your heart drops into your gut.
have you ever had a paper cut ?
A light in the dark
You were the one
One that cured, one that healed
But you left me with something—
How long will it take to heal ?
This scar that you left me with
How long will it take to heal ?
This part of me that misses you
There will always be
A piece of me in you
And a piece of you in me
For eternal—
If I were that scar above your rose tinted lips,
of whom you keep picking and removing dead cellular dust,
out of hatred that rises from your porous subcutaneous layer
of insecurity,
I probably would have bled more than you think.
I couldn't have shed tears, possibly.
But I've heard every little wound needs love to heal,
And so will I-
your dearest hideous scar.
It’s not on skin,
but somewhere deeper—
buried beneath smiles
we rehearse in mirrors.
A silent bruise,
left by words never said,
moments never shared,
goodbyes that came too early.
It lingers in quiet rooms,
echoes in familiar songs,
tugs at your heart
when no one’s watching.
We laugh louder now,
walk straighter,
act like healing
is a straight line forward.
But some wounds
don’t bleed or ache—
they simply stay,
a part of who we become.
So we dress them
in metaphors and memories,
pretend we’ve forgotten,
but trace them in poetry.
Because the scar we never talk about
is the one we carry
like a shadow—
always behind, always ours.
Most of my life I’ve tried to hide scars because they were ugly reminders of things I didn’t want to think about. And a lot of those scars were invisible to the naked eye. A human couldn’t see these are scars, similar to deep open wounds within me. I learned they are not damaged eye sores but trophies for the trials and tribulations I have overcome thus far. Your scars can be the medals you attain, having given yourself the opportunity to lean deep into your faith. We'll learn we have been healed and forgiven for any wrong we did, any sins we committed. Reminders, we were already forgiven. Those scars are something to remember when we feel like quitting a reminder for when we are too weak to want to feel. We need to remember that someone already died for the terrible things we ruminate on that have already been crucified and healed . Try not to focus on how deep the wound is, keep in mind his are for eternity, that he endured for believers in his word. How can we complain when someone was murdered for you and me. To be able to live a life of love and abundance sin free. I challenge you to use your scars as badges of honor for the rest of your breaths eternity
Through the dark, I find my way,
Night may linger, but not stay.
Every scar, a tale I keep,
Mountains move where shadows sleep.
A scarlet scar on the left knee
Hair on my head I cut into chops myself
I dash out from under my weighted blanket of warmth
I am allowed one cup of coffee and one cup of tea
A weak stomach from an ulcer doesn’t keep me from writing.
Will a poet walk into my life? Will I ever have that partner?
In the rush of living my heart stops
between each beat
and for a moment
or maybe just half a moment
she is there.
Not once, but always;
Waiting for me
between those beats,
in every one of my remaining days.
“ I miss you.”
Written as if the sun’s passing mattered more.
As if being uttered with muttered words,
heard only in the hollow of a poets’ dream,
could bring the past to life
or resurrect a love.
"A scar that won't go,
A scar that resides in me,
A scar that people see,
Is not the scar that I see.
Deep down, it's not just brown,
It's the pain that I endure,
The struggle to breathe,
The mask of happiness I can no longer wear.
The scar appeared, a heartfelt plea,
A symbol of my innerself."
THE SCAR OF PAIN
The Mixtures of Pain,
The Countable seconds,
Being the utter most irritant,
Mumbling to Share.
At the Time,
Realising the Past,
that had a Bad Faith,
Harassed with pain.
The mind never goes refreshed,
But the voice of others,
Being filled as the scar..
Never knows how to treat it with,
Need to help myself ...
Cause i own my life and my mind.
It can be an unaccepted valuable advice.
An unheard shout not allowed to voice.
The feeling of loneliness amongst a crowd.
A silent cry always wanting to be loud.
A neglected suggestion which is the best.
A marathon of thoughts forced to take rest.
A personal emotion never understood in public.
A simple soul always wanting to be heroic.
A scar is often invisible and untouchable.
Deep rooted in the heart but untraceable.
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