Scars

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Scars…
They burn in my flesh
Like little daggers trying to bring me down,
But I won’t let that happen.

They’re just scars…
But they hurt,
And they beg me to make more

I don’t like it
I can’t help it
I can’t control it
It just happens…

And more and more come
And soon it’s just scars
And there’s nowhere left for me,

To be
Just me.





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sadesdd said...
Oct. 8, 2012 at 9:01 pm
This poem is one of my favorites. It explains the way that some people who cut themselves think. I absolutely love the way you show the conflict with the character and their cutting. They can't help it but they also don't want to because they want to be themselves. Thank you for this poem.
 
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