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Scar

Freaky

Freaky

Demon Slayer of Zozo
VIP
Senior's
Posting Freak
Scar

How do I tell her that the only things left of the sweet innocence are things that make no sense


How do I tell her that now my favorite color is the red of cries, lies, lines and wines


How do I tell her that falling asleep is easier with counting scars than counting stars


How do I tell her that I feel claustrophobic, not only in the mob but also in my head


How do I tell her that now strangers don't seem as scary as the eyes staring in my mirror, wary


How do I tell her that I no longer wish to see this world that she unfurled
 
Sometimes it’s
bigger than my
body, the body

that gave it
life, that is
its life—as if I’m

a frame for
it, as if it
continues beyond

my end, although no
one, not here,
can see where

it goes, how
far, & now
it finds

its way into
every possible
place I

imagine, even
the past, which believes
in my scar like

a prophecy, & like a god’s
work, I have no
memory of it breathing

into me &
abstracting me
to myth from which to

remake the world
into the rising
& falling

action of fiction—my body
as denouement. Sometimes I feel
it without waiting

for its hum on
the nerves, its shivering
arc from eye

to jawbone. How often
I want to
give it a voice so

it can tell
me what I want
it to say—that it knows

me like tomorrow
does. That a need lives
in lack’s because.
 
Deepak Kiran said:
Sometimes it’s
bigger than my
body, the body

that gave it
life, that is
its life—as if I’m

a frame for
it, as if it
continues beyond

my end, although no
one, not here,
can see where

it goes, how
far, & now
it finds

its way into
every possible
place I

imagine, even
the past, which believes
in my scar like

a prophecy, & like a god’s
work, I have no
memory of it breathing

into me &
abstracting me
to myth from which to

remake the world
into the rising
& falling

action of fiction—my body
as denouement. Sometimes I feel
it without waiting

for its hum on
the nerves, its shivering
arc from eye

to jawbone. How often
I want to
give it a voice so

it can tell
me what I want
it to say—that it knows

me like tomorrow
does. That a need lives
in lack’s because.
Click to expand...
You wrote this?
 
Freaky said:
Scar

How do I tell her that the only things left of the sweet innocence are things that make no sense


How do I tell her that now my favorite color is the red of cries, lies, lines and wines


How do I tell her that falling asleep is easier with counting scars than counting stars


How do I tell her that I feel claustrophobic, not only in the mob but also in my head


How do I tell her that now strangers don't seem as scary as the eyes staring in my mirror, wary


How do I tell her that I no longer wish to see this world that she unfurled
Click to expand...
The urge to reply "tell them with your mouth" >> :Dream1:
 
Freaky said:
Scar

How do I tell her that the only things left of the sweet innocence are things that make no sense


How do I tell her that now my favorite color is the red of cries, lies, lines and wines


How do I tell her that falling asleep is easier with counting scars than counting stars


How do I tell her that I feel claustrophobic, not only in the mob but also in my head


How do I tell her that now strangers don't seem as scary as the eyes staring in my mirror, wary


How do I tell her that I no longer wish to see this world that she unfurled
Click to expand...
Any type of scar give us a lesson and we should remember that...! :)
 
Freaky said:
Scar

How do I tell her that the only things left of the sweet innocence are things that make no sense


How do I tell her that now my favorite color is the red of cries, lies, lines and wines


How do I tell her that falling asleep is easier with counting scars than counting stars


How do I tell her that I feel claustrophobic, not only in the mob but also in my head


How do I tell her that now strangers don't seem as scary as the eyes staring in my mirror, wary


How do I tell her that I no longer wish to see this world that she unfurled
Click to expand...
It is better if there are scars on the body, just do not leave scars on the heart otherwise it hurts a lot.
 
Freaky said:
Scar

How do I tell her that the only things left of the sweet innocence are things that make no sense


How do I tell her that now my favorite color is the red of cries, lies, lines and wines


How do I tell her that falling asleep is easier with counting scars than counting stars


How do I tell her that I feel claustrophobic, not only in the mob but also in my head


How do I tell her that now strangers don't seem as scary as the eyes staring in my mirror, wary


How do I tell her that I no longer wish to see this world that she unfurled
Click to expand...
Lovely
 
@Freaky as usual you wrote so good !!
People who have left a scar on us - Believe in Karma, they'll get what they deserve, so no point in crying over such people.

This poem also made me think about how we give others a scar, and we cannot change that ever.
 
How did I miss this - the freaky writer !! To read your write ups - it reminds me that - I need to have more depth of understanding.
 
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