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Array ( [sid] => 120679 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Beautiful Scars [time] => 2006-05-24 14:06:41 [hometext] => Poem about cutting and such, my thoughts. [bodytext] => Beautiful Scars

They dance across my arms.
I run my fingers over them
And smile to myself.
Oh, how they look so pretty.

Thoughts of death enter my mind.
I grab my blade.
Touch it to my arm.
Watch the blood appear.

My latest scar is my favorite.
I feel a sense of pride and horror.
I cannot wait to cut myself again.
Horror that someone may find out
And take my beautiful blade away.

This is all I have;
My blade, my blood, my scars,
To save me from my death.

Death is beckoning.
Reaching for the gun
But to stop at the sight,
Sight of my savior, my blade.

I feel the pain and darkness again,
Blocking my view.
My hand touches my blade.
I can see before me,
The beautiful blood of my pain.
And the scars keep coming.

Perhaps one day, I will go too far.
Cut myself and not stop the blood.
Too deep to be saved.
Blackness slips over my eyes.

The blade cannot save me anymore.
My last breath and sight.
My last beautiful scar.



redtears
May 2006 [comments] => 2 [counter] => 181 [topic] => 13 [informant] => redtears [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
Beautiful Scars

Contributed by redtears on Wednesday, 24th May 2006 @ 02:06:41 PM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry



Beautiful Scars

They dance across my arms.
I run my fingers over them
And smile to myself.
Oh, how they look so pretty.

Thoughts of death enter my mind.
I grab my blade.
Touch it to my arm.
Watch the blood appear.

My latest scar is my favorite.
I feel a sense of pride and horror.
I cannot wait to cut myself again.
Horror that someone may find out
And take my beautiful blade away.

This is all I have;
My blade, my blood, my scars,
To save me from my death.

Death is beckoning.
Reaching for the gun
But to stop at the sight,
Sight of my savior, my blade.

I feel the pain and darkness again,
Blocking my view.
My hand touches my blade.
I can see before me,
The beautiful blood of my pain.
And the scars keep coming.

Perhaps one day, I will go too far.
Cut myself and not stop the blood.
Too deep to be saved.
Blackness slips over my eyes.

The blade cannot save me anymore.
My last breath and sight.
My last beautiful scar.



redtears
May 2006




Copyright © redtears ... [ 2006-05-24 14:06:41]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Beautiful Scars (User Rating: 1 )
by blackprayer on Wednesday, 24th May 2006 @ 02:41:54 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I understand cutting, I have my own scars, I just find anything with it doesn't last. I enjoyed reading the poem and in truth it had a hint of the manic to it.


Re: Beautiful Scars (User Rating: 1 )
by jesusofholland on Friday, 25th April 2008 @ 09:37:47 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Sad to read such a truthful and telling part of many young womens lives. Things will get better if you let them.




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