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Poems
Scars
My scars are a symbol,
proof of my battle.
They show i survive,
but not that i live.
Big ones, little ones,
all are a memory.
A memory of my life,
of how it was.
The only thing now,
is to find an ending
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i want
Suicide is all i want,
its a release from the pain.
Abuse, neglect,
i have suffered both.
I show the scars,
but only on the outside.
Inside is dead,
but only to the world.
The pain is real,
but am i?
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Shame
Abuse was all I knew,
yet I did not understand.
I thought it was a secret game,
not that it was wrong.
Only special people understood,
nobody would believe me if i told.
He was true in that sense,
betrayal was a foreign emotion.
It led to a life of mistrust,
i can only believe in myself.
Cutting relieves me from the guilt,
even though it is misplaced.
I know i was a child,
that i was never to blame.
It doesnt excuse me from the pain,
but rationalizes it for others.
The blade is my only friend,
the release it brings is mine.
Nobody can help me,
i must deal with my own guilt
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Friends
friends are like cubes,
they show many faces.
some want to help u,
some want to hurt u.
pain is my friend,
it lets me know im still alive.
death is my friend,
he will provide release.
life is my friend,
it shows me anger and fear.
experience is my friend,
it makes me who i am.
Who i am is not important,
its who my friends are.
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