Scars

by JustJess   May 20, 2018


I cut to feel something,
Not to end my life,
The emotion ive held inside,
Is helped out with the knife.

I know you dont understand,
You probably never will,
I cut because I need to,
Not to kill.

As the blood leaves my wrists,
The frustration and pain does too,
I know that you hate to see it,
I know its hurting you.

I wish I could stop,
But im afraid that if I do,
Ill take this pain out on someone,
That someone being you.

This is my way of coping,
As silly as it seems,
Each scar of mine tells a story,
Each scar a broken dream.

My body is a open book,
For all I cannot say,
My body shows all the pain,
That will never go away.

4


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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Mr. Darcy

    Hi Jess, welcome back.

    All the best.

    P.s. I hope this poem is an older one.

  • 5 years ago

    by mistake

    This hits very deep for me and you’ve framed in words so clearly it really takes me back. If you want a more satisfying outlet I suggest getting outside and running to let your brain mull over it which may give you a clearer head later. If the thoughts get really bad break into a rage sprint and then break down in tears at the end of it if you need to. You’d be surprised how well your mind can deal with itself when your body is already preoccupied. It may not work for you, and if not keep writing because your writing is great and will help you understand yourself better.

  • 5 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Welcome to the site.

    While I cannot pretend to believe this is the answer, I do certainly understand the need, and I also know that the pain brings a kind of relief. I myself have always suffered a little from depression and have never needed to cut myself to cope, but everyone has there own way of doing things and whatever it takes to get through the day, as they say.
    I hope that you are able to live without this need one day and I believe you will but until then, I am sorry that you feel so bad.

    Take care and all the best,

    Ben

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