scars

Pictures that I remember.

Photos are on my back and my face
The harm that was bestowed by each individual case
The photos on my back are from those you call friends
The photos on my heart are from when our love ends
The photos on my face are from the fights I've won and lost
But the pain is really what each picture costs
Hoping to go far and eventually become a star
But by the time I get there, from head to toe, I'll be covered in scars.

Life?

Folder: 
Death

Lifes a lie,
I won't yelp.
But I cry,
I need help.
Nothing anyone will do,
And no one truly cares.
It's nothing new,
It constantly tares.
And along with tears,
Comes blood and scars.
It all really sears,
Hidden unlike cars.
Help is not asked,
Because they just ignore.
I feel like an outcast,
It digs to my core.
One day Ill cut deep,
Purpose or accident?
The knife will seep,
Ill find out what I meant.
Suicide or a slip,
Either ones great.
Knife will take a dip,
Everything and everyone will be to late.

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Head Scratchier

Folder: 
2010

I sit and I wonder

Why am I here?

A year ago I was supposed to die

I told the devil to kiss my ass

 

And then flicked him off

Just as I walked away

Now I wear glasses

And my memory isn’t right

 

I’ve got scars to prove my travels

Physical and mental

Now I sit and wonder

Just why for?

 

I feel me waking up

Is just a sign of

But a sign of what

Just a sign of _____

 

Go ahead and fill in the blank

Because I sure don’t know what

I’m just here for the ride

I sure don’t get to drive, I told you that

 

~Chrystal

Written on

September 24, 2010

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This one was written about my confusion of still being alive. Will I ever figure it out?

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