Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2012
This is for you.

My body is scarred.
It has been for years now.
They are still as fresh as the day they formed.
Each one showing.
How to survive a little longer in the world.

They’re worn daily, just to show you’re alive
Every time you look down.
The scars, those battle scars
Flare up, like diamonds in the light
Showing all dimensions of perfection.
Fresh on the skin.

The human being without scars is a heart without a beat.
It’s our statement piece.
Defining us into being the warrior we must become.
Yet, we wallow in self pity, craving attention.
To heal the wounds.

Our scars stand by us when all else fails.
Showing the darkness behind each soul.
Giving light to a person we thought we knew.
They're all over my face.
Screaming the words; nightmare.
Pleading for pride.

Each sting, like the wasp's fear.
They hurt to remind you they haven't gone.
Never will they settle down beside your soul.
In peace.
Battle scars, those battle scars.
Bleed out, shirek out, wail out for acceptance.
Which is denied by our lives.

Make a soldier out of me, wear my battle scars with courage.
Let them taunt my name in disgust.
They can shine whenever they want too.
But it won't stop me.
Let them be my soul companion for life.
This life is now mine.
Emma Sawyer
Written by
Emma Sawyer
Please log in to view and add comments on poems