I Am... My Scars

I was happy growing up

My middle school years were horrible

A neverending nightmare

Wanting to wake up 

I need comfort

Shake me and slap me

Hold me and

Yell at me to wake up 

I want to hear your voice

So I know that I'm still conscious 


Finally waking up, my vision's blurred

It's now my junior year

And I'm reliving the same nightmare

It's September, the school year's barely setting in

But my mind isn't

The constant spining of white

Bright lights

Silhouettes hovering over me, soft voices creeping into my ears

And then I see nothing


I woke up 

Standing in front of a mirror

Staring at my skin

Red and scarred

Bandaged and cut

Brand new, fresh breathing scars staring back at my reflection

What have they done to me? 

I ask myself

I close my eyes as they began to burn, blinking

Holding back the burning tears in my eyes

As I can't look at myself the same way anymore

Constantly asking myself why

But I know that this won't go away


Many nights consisted of many prayers 

And cries for help and comfort

Comfort me, comfort my scars

Comfort the person who I've become

The negative and hopeless person that I've become



This poem is about: 


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