My Arms

January 6, 2011
By Anonymous

People look at my arms and think
"What kind of gang is she in?"
They don't consider that there is a purpose
For the lines on my arms
They see it as an abnormality, as a weakness

They don't understand the message I'm sending
They just see lines on my arms
The permanent lines that I choose to make

They can't comprehend that it's a discipline
That it brings meaning, that it remindes me everyday
That things could be worse, that I still have something to believe in

I wear these lines on my arms
To remind me to wear my heart on my sleeve
To show others that whatever they think of me
I am loved and I love others, no matter how much they've hurt me

Those lines they see
Spell out love and are written with ink
Because the pen is always stronger than the blade or gun
The pen writes love, when the others speak surrender


The author's comments:
This is a poem that I wrote after a good friend of mine committed suicide. Afterwards I became really interested in the organization To Write Love on Her Arms. That's what inspired this poem.

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