Sign Here, Please:
At 43 my body is a twisted wreckage of scar tissue.
Most of them are from people I know or knew.
Cigarette burns (many of them) ,
Knife slices,
A large cut left by a pair of scissors wielded by a crazy girl I dated,
Claw marks on my back, sex scars, another crazy girl with 'lee press on talons'.
My teeth were knocked out in a few fights (over women and heroin) .
I now wear dentures.
There is a one from being hit with a frying pan in the head
I don't care how funny it is in Looney Toons,
that shit HURT.. and bled like a virgin sacrifice.
There are the scars from childhood clumsiness
(Falling down stairs and the like)
I have a huge scar on my right thigh...
a blowtorch my dad used to teach me that men don't cry
(I still can't, it worked)
'Sex and pain form flesh identity' Burroughs wrote.
My body is an autograph book.
Many, many, people have signed it,
and I remember them all.
I also have tattoos and piercings,
I remember who did those as well but they lack the emotional honesty of the others.
A friend recently told me
'Nothing is more honest than a punch in the face'
I had to nod in agreement...
While I am covered in scars (many, many scars) .
I have to admit,
they are all honest.
Funny thing is, I wouldn't trade them,
they are stories,
they are my stories made flesh.
They are me
and the people who put them there,
they are also, in a very literal way, they are me as well.
poem by Brevet Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Scars
Now I see that you are pushing me away,
The scars remain as my pain,
I can see that my veins are full of scars,
Scars of remaining past,
Scars from all those cutting,
Scars from all the pain I went through,
Love is vain,
The rain might pour down,
But nothing has stop me from seeing the scars I have left behind,
Nothing can’t stop me from seeing the remaining scars,
All my scars, all my memories remain as my pain.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scars
I once knew a girl.
Who forever had scars and cuts upon her arms.
Hope was insribed.
Not in the colour of ink.
But in the colours of the scars.
With stitches on her skin.
Plus tears in her eyes.
And bumpy scars.
Filled with hate and shame.
For whats she done.
But she'll do it again.
She once saw someone.
They asked what is that on your arms.
Ciggerette burns came the reply.
Deep inside the girl was lost.
I once saw myself drowned in tears.
Cant understand the purpose of my being.
For the cuts and scars.
The pain goes so much deeper
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scars
We all have scars.
Some visible and some hidden to the world.
We sometimes try to hide the physically scars because we think it is ugly,
but really having scars is not a bad thing.
It reminds us we can heal and get through the bad times both physically and mentally when we are ripped or torn apart.
So embrace you scars and keep on healing.
For healing and battling is a part of life.
Let people see your scars and how strong you are by healing.
poem by Christina J. Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who I Am
i know who i am
im dark and quiet
creative and myself
dont care what people say
i dont care what they think
my piercings, my make up and cloths
are expressions but just my outter shell
look passed all of that and you will see the real me
the girl who loves tattoo's, piercings
stormy weather and poetry
the dark hearted girl you see on the outside
is only part of me
you may think im trouble and cold
i admit im troubled and the reasaults are the scars
that i bare on my wrists and the reason for my invisablity
not scared to be hurt im used to the pain
scared of being left for dead in the cold
hung out to dry and forgotten there
i may look mean but its the wall i put up
the wall no one gets passed
its hard to trust
hard to let people in
my feelings, everything
can only be seen through my eyes
and in my heart and only people who see me
for me and know the actually me
see everything i am and everything i can see
one out of thousands of people can see the real me
and he means so much to me so hes the only one
that passed my walls without a fight
and got through
he the only one who truly knows the real me
poem by Sandy Vanity
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Colleen Says
Never, have I seen a boy with as many scars as you.
It's almost like they are an inherent nevus with roots linking your mind to your body, your history with this present moment, your hardships and armor.
I first noticed the one on your upper lip when we made love in the hall.
And, When I saw it, in my eyes, with secular clarity I felt a deep passion for you, and began searching the cosmos of your body for more blemishing marks.
They all spoke to me loudly some of childhood with your adventurous spirit getting into trouble, others of punishments inflicted by your father, some even spooked me tremendously, I imagined the struggles you have had, and all those constellations linked by a thread each scar with the histories, of great legends, each with its place as if without them your skin will loosen and you would unravel in my arms.
What I am trying to say is this, You wouldn't be complete without your scars.
The ones on your knuckles and over your eyes
The tiny bites down your neck, on your wrist, your ribs and your surgery scars.All of them!
Even the one you have on the paw of your left foot, you thought couldn't find that one, my bear? how could I forget my favorite, I imagine you do sometimes, I see the memory of that one is particularly painful, and cannot blame you, I imagine you off your feet for weeks. or unaturally wandering with a slight limp. I want you to love me tenderly and completely. if only you could taste the dopamine in my saliva, youd know that those scars can be mended, taste my divertimento.
I want to trace the bulging veins on your arms which are like the rails connecting your memories to your scars like highways, freeways and expressways, I want to see your throbbing scars your throbbing sex I don't want to be afraid, and I want them to be mine. I guess all this means is that without you I would unravel.
poem by Jerome Moore
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One Leg Anne and the Innocent Flirt.
Sister Mary pushed Anne
in her wheelchair
to the white table
where you were sitting
with Lydia Sad
and Malcolm
and a curly headed girl
with burn scars
on her face and neck
there
said the nun
here you can sit
and wait for breakfast
and catch the morning sun
Anne looked glumly
at the sky
and said nothing
as the nun
walked away
I wonder
what's for breakfast?
Malcolm asked
stewed cat on toast
Anne said
looking at Lydia Sad
whose blonde hair
and blue eyes
gave her
an angelic look
that's horrible
the girl with burn scars said
don't eat it then
Anne said
Malcolm looked at you
it wouldn't be that
would it?
He asked
no
you said
Anne's just having you on
why do you have to spoil
my fun Skinny Boy?
Anne said
it's not funny
Lydia muttered
not funny to say that
about cats being on toast
how are your haemorrhoids?
Anne asked Lydia
saw the fat nun
giving you the bum pill
Lydia blushed
and Malcolm looked
at the white table top
I'm telling Sister Bernadette
about you
the girl with burn scars said
go put your head
between your thighs
and breathe the air
Anne said
the girl got up
and left the table
followed by Lydia
and Malcolm
that's got rid of them
Skinny Boy
Anne said
why are you so horrible?
you asked
looking at her red skirt
just covering the stump
of her amputated leg
have a good look Skinny Boy
and she pulled up
her skirt to reveal
the naked flesh
and plump stump
you noticed
how the scar
seemed to pull
into a smooth redness
what do you think?
Anne asked
I've seen it before
you replied
when?
She asked
you showed me
the other week
while you were being weight
in the bathroom
she smiled
and pulled down
her skirt
I like you Skinny Boy
you're just
an innocent flirt
and she laughed
and her wheelchair rocked
and you smiled
and wondered
what she meant
by the word flirt
and looked discreetly
at her short red skirt.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heartaches come and go
Heartaches come and go
wounds that are left behind
scars the face of our life
every time!
One by one
they come out every month
scriptures and scribbles
tatooed upon the chest
of some daddy's little girl
Forced into the darkness,
of a cold and damp street
scorned out of her childhood
by a guardian of her life
Hard as a stone, she is
Covered with this indelible art
That sit's upon her heart
Like an eternal scar
Her body is covered in it
She tries to hide behind it
The shame of her livelihood
Her innocence and her screams
Her childhood and her dreams
Are still so very real
Safely stored behind
The façade of her being
Nick Kler
When you came
You came.
And you hurt me.
And you abused me.
You raped me.
You came
You laughed at me
You made me do things
I didnt want to do.
You came
You made me feel.
What shit was like.
How hurt feels.
What pain feels like.
You came
And you opened my eyes.
To a world of pain
A world of hurt.
A world of abuse.
Then you left
But you havent left my head.
I remember it all.
I cant forget.
I cant forget your face of evil
You twisted vile look.
You shitty voice
And your vile disgusting smell.
You left me with the ruins
In ruins of what you did
In tatters and shreads.
You left me with
Alake of tears
Alife of torment
And emotional scars.
You left me
Laughter that was not mine
God how hate you
Your out of my life now
But your in my head.
In my past
and in my dreams
And nightmares.
Why wont you fuckoff
out of my head?
Please take the lauhter away
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scars Of Our Past
you say you wana know me,
But do you really?
do you see who i am?
Do you see my scars?
look closer, their carves straight into my arm.
Do you see my pain, the tears, streaming down my face.
you hold me in your arms, tell me you care,
but do you really?
How?
Im covered in their filth from what they've all done to m, no matter how many times i shower the filth wont ever leave, it will never go away. cant you see the scars that my past have left behind.
But thats okay becasue today im choosing to make a stand im leaving my scars and past behind.
poem by Alicia Tschantre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Preserving Scars
She wakes up
Screaming
Crying
From nightmares
Terror
Fear
Scars
On her body
Show it all
Abuse
Mistreatment
Neglect
All her history
Is written
Upon her skin
Dripping in
Rose red
Ink
Scars
Tell her experiences
Memories
Engraved in
Her mind
Imprinted
Never to
Be without
Them
Never to
Be without
Pain
Reminders
Everywhere she
Looks
Of the past
Preserved
In her skin
She covers them
As best as she
Can
She hugs herself
Rocking back and forth
Rembering lost pain
Remembering
How she got those
Marks
How those
Memories
Were made
She will
Never be without
Those scars
Forever
Preserved
In her skin
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do I Know You
(toby keith)
Do I know you
Have we ever met
Youve got a smile I could never forget
Perhaps youve mistaken me for someone you know
Whats that you say
Am I losin my mind
Thats just one of the things girl
That I left behind
You must be talkin about something
That happened a long time ago
If I forgot to remember your name and your face
Excuse me forgetting I must have misplaced
That part of my life that left all the scars
From the back of my mind, to the bottom of my heart
Theres a look in your eyes
Ive seen before
Its all too familiar but I cant be sure
Ive got a memory somewhere
That looks a lot like you
Im still confused
With these feelings inside
I want to reach out and hold you and I wanna hide
Tell me did I really love you
Or are you someone that I never knew
If I forgot to remember your name and your face
Excuse me forgetting I must have misplaced
That part of my life that left all the scars
From the back of my mind, to the bottom of my heart
If I forgot to remember your name and your face
Excuse me forgetting I must have misplaced
That part of my life that left all the scars
From the back of my mind, to the bottom of my heart
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4 Girls.
One beautiful girl, hiding behing her smile
Scars covered by bracelets, living a lie
One beautiful girl, so popular she is
Dying inside, not knowing she'll be missed.
One lonely girl, ignored by all
A blade as her only friend, feeling so small
One lonely girl, wall colliding with her fist
Loving the pain, blood dripping down her wrist.
One brave girl, beaten every day
Saving her little brother, standing in his way
One brave girl, bruised and broken in her bed
Secretly thinking, I'm better off dead.
One caring girl, helping all the weak
Someone who can save her, is all that she seeks
One caring girl, feeling dead inside
Her thoughts and scars, all that she hides.
4 Girls, no one ever even knew
What did we miss, what were they going through?
People now noticing, slowly opening their eyes
But too late it was, they couldn't even say goodbye.
poem by Scout Kerr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suicide Scars
i look at myself in the mirror wondering.
wondering what happend to the girl i used to be.
wondering why there are scars on my wrist.
why i did this to myself.
then i think back to when my whole world was crashing down.
i seem to realize that these scars are suicide scars.
i start to cry to the fact that i will have these scars for a life time.
i grab my razor put it up to my wrist.
and i start to cut.
i start to cut them suicide cuts all over again.
i cant stop.
but i guess that this will be me forever.
makeing them ugly suicide scars.
poem by Trish Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suicide Scars
i look at myself in the mirror wondering.
wondering what happend to the girl i used to be.
wondering why there are scars on my wrist.
why i did this to myself.
then i think back to when my whole world was crashing down.
i seem to realize that these scars are suicide scars.
i start to cry to the fact that i will have these scars for a life time.
i grab my razor put it up to my wrist.
and i start to cut.
i start to cut them suicide cuts all over again.
i cant stop.
but i guess that this will be me forever.
makeing them ugly suicide scars.
poem by Teresa Johnson
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Scars From A Childhood
Scars from a childhood, some visible, some not
One on my palm from a grill that was hot.
Punishment came from nothing I did.
Clenching my fist, it was something I hid.
Why world? I'm only a kid.
Scars that are hidden by clothes that I wear,
or some on my neck covered by hair.
These are excuses for frustrations at home.
They will stay with me wherever I roam.
Why world? I'm only a kid.
Never understanding just what I did do?
accepting the scars, each one as I grew,
fragmenting my mind so I could not forget
all of these scars that are still there yet.
Why world?
I was only a kid.
Some are visible. They can't be seen.
They live inside me. They're there when I dream.
Can things be different now that I've grown?
Or will they stay with me?
Are they all that I own?
Why world?
I was only a kid.
The kids in this world that are like me,
I wonder with fear what their fate will be?
The world can be cruel when you have no defense.
Where is the decency? Where is the sense?
Why world? They are only kids.
Those that have suffered all of these scars
should see the inflictors behind iron bars.
Until this is seen as a travesty
it will continue so no one will see.
Please world, please let them see.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Different Girls
Pretty girl, who is to blame
Frightened girl, they don't know her name
Saddened girl, who cries at night
Distant girl, who's out of sight
Psycho girl, with scars on her wrists
Fairytale girl, who don't exist
Silent girl, without a name
Ignored girl, who's filled with shame
Faking girl, with plastic smiles
Freakish girl, from a thousand miles
Emotionless girl, cant feel much pain
Darkened girl, who brings the rain
Crying girl, tears start to flood
Psychotic girl, who drains her blood
Hated girl, who no one loves
Such a weak girl, who's no longer though
Angry girl, there is no cure
Happy girl, she is no more
Hidden girl, she covers her scars
Prisoned girl, lived behind her life's bars
Crazy girl, who bleeds so much
Lonely girl, who's out of touch
Stupid girl, who no one likes
Beaten girl, who always fights
Pretty girl, don't give up now
Suicide girl, there's someway, somehow
Scared girl, don't be afraid
Distant girl, don't go away
Morbid girl, don't die tonight
Worried girl, it'll be alright
Stoner girl, tonight she'll smoke her sorrow
Alcoholic girl, she'll drink tomorrow
Furious girl, who has no more faith
Depressed girl, who cries and aches
Fallen girl, with broken wings
Disturbed girl, fell off the swing
Pretty girl, you are my friend
Aching girl, just try to mend
Ugly girl, not like before
Beautiful girl, she is no more
Pretty girl, who made her life end
Pretty girl...no...Not again..
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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The scars inside will not heal
There is noubt different than being raped
and being pushed down mentaly.
except that the wounds also bleed inside.
The mental scars will not heal.
They do not fade.
There was no difference between being raped
and being run over by a lorry
except that afterwards the sicko asked if you enjoyed it.
As if it were a game.
And still the scars have not healed.
There is no difference of being raped
and going head first through a top floor window.
except that afterwards you are not afraid of hights.
but of half the human population.
And still the scars linger on with the pain.
They do not fade.
Fear of rape is a storm brewing.
Never towalk out alone
when I see a man coming towards me.
All the fears reopen.
And all there is to do is run for dear life.
This scar will not go it will not heal.
Never to open the door to a knock
without the fear has he found me.
What if its him.
All of the fears hold me back.
The scars do not fade they will not heal
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Scars
(ian hunter/darrell bath/honest john plain)
Well I still got your blood running through my veins
I still got your blood running through my veins
And even though the circumstances change
I know we never got along - the pieces would not fit
And I still got the scars to show for it
Staring through the window at the rain
Is it me or have all the colours changed?
I was sick with jealousy
I know why you had to split
And you still got the scars to prove it.
I cant see them, but I can feel them
Theyre tearing me up inside
I feel them kicking - I feel them sticking
Like something in me died
And its all right - I wish you the very best
I just had to get it/this off my chest
People tell me on the street that you dont give a
I took that kind of hard
Its just another kind of scar I got to show for it
Its just another scar I got to show for it
I still got your blood running through my vein
But I still got your blood running through my vein
I still got your blood running through my vein
I say I still got your blood running through my vein
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus Holds My Hand
I saw Jesus last night.
He layed beside me,
held my hand.
I felt his scars.
They didn't make me sad.
The scars are happy.
Jesus said i have scars too.
You just can't see them.
My scars cut deep
So i can't escape them.
Jesus said to give him my scars.
That he carried the sorows of the world.
I gave my scars to God last night.
He still holds my hand.
And i love Jesus.
Can you?
All Different Girls
All Different Girls
By: Sabrina Smith
Pretty girl, who is to blame
Frightened girl, they don’t know her name
Saddened girl, who cries at night
Distant girl, who’s out of sight
Psycho girl, with scars on her wrists
Fairytale girl, who don’t exist
Silent girl, without a name
Ignored girl, who’s filled with shame
Faking girl, with plastic smiles
Freakish girl, from a thousand miles
Emotionless girl, cant feel much pain
Darkened girl, who brings the rain
Crying girl, tears start to flood
Psychotic girl, who drains her blood
Hated girl, who no one loves
Such a weak girl, who’s no longer though
Angry girl, there is no cure
Happy girl, she is no more
Hidden girl, she covers her scars
Prisoned girl, lived behind her life’s bars
Crazy girl, who bleeds so much
Lonely girl, who’s out of touch
Stupid girl, who no one likes
Beaten girl, who always fights
Pretty girl, don’t give up now
Suicide girl, there’s someway, somehow
Scared girl, don’t be afraid
Distant girl, don’t go away
Morbid girl, don’t die tonight
Worried girl, it'll be alright
Stoner girl, tonight she'll smoke her sorrow
Alcoholic girl, she'll drink tomorrow
Furious girl, who has no more faith
Depressed girl, who cries and aches
Fallen girl, with broken wings
Disturbed girl, fell off the swing
Pretty girl, you are my friend
Aching girl, just try to mend
Ugly girl, not like before
Beautiful girl, she is no more
Pretty girl, who made her life end
Pretty girl...no...Not again...
poem by Sabrina Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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