You told your scars, you portrayed them like glory, everyone cares about your story...
Each scar has a unique story they say. Whether it be physical, mental or emotional, you showcase them in the light of day.
No judgement, only care. Very ironic to how all I recieve is stares.
How do others do it? Showcase their pain. They walk around and portray, no worry at all. Doesn't that drain.
Them? How do you even explain? the strain, what remains, ignore the distain they have on their face?
I told my scars once, I got told to shut up. "Don't be stupid", "Your fine". Yeah I am fine. My thought will be kept in an empty cup.
They can show where they've been broken, I have to pretend I never was.
Does this make sense? I'm stuck writing poetry, cuz showing my scars just makes me tense.
I don't get to show, I'm stuck in a low, like bro, why can't I show my scars??
Am I on a different planet or something? Am I on mars? Am I an alien, who's scars cause others to push away? I don't know, but what I do know is that I'm fine.
Thats where I stand, that's my line. I'll say it with pride, I'm fine.
My Scars will remain hidden, physical, mental emotional. Cuz who am I kiddin. They're scared of my wounds. I now feel guilty whenever I take off my shirt, whenever they seem my arm.
I'll stay in my cocoon. Learn to live in the silence. No need for reliance. This is my defiance.
Against those who told me to hide, and now tell me to open. No I won't share my scars, all you need to know is I'm broken.
I'm spoken, for now. The one line you gave me "I'm fine" is now my curtain bow.
I hid my scars, I don't get glory. No one cares about my story...