scars
Id Lab She is upstairs. Nothing separates us but fear, the fear to move and intervene between her selves, the victim and the victor, the fear to seek my help. She is trying to cut her arms with my razor, which is a 'Protector', designed not to cut the skin. It is difficult, but if she does not succeed, she will break a glass and draw enough blood to be revenged on herself for those imaginary crimes. It might even be comic if it were not here, now, me, her: the attempt to cut with the safety razor, the dithering boyfriend and the wilfully self-destructive girlfriend. I can not understand her, and that is a neurological fact: my brain is not formed like hers. Should I stop her, incurring her temporary wrath? Or should I let her go, staining my shirts, our sheets, our souls, with her dead blood?

The scars mutely accuse on her arms, her belly, her chest, her legs. She is incomplete without them. I stand, and lie, accused, and I inspire her to new acts of twisted revenge.
010922
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silentbob even christ himself would cringe at the sight of your scars 010922
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crawling back under my rock the ones she won't let me soothe will mark me as well 010922
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misstree scars
beneath scabs
which were wounds
once you came
are the marks
of memory.
010924
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yummychuckle crevices ruinning the smooth white,
slashes crossing and yelling at one another.

I cringe, and then smile when i see them.
010925
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diamonds your fire, when it burns me, leaves me with scars that i treasure 011007
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Casey The only ones I have are the ones you left on my soul from the times we spent together. 011007
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distorted tendencies I have them all over my arms. The places where the skin is light and soft upon my lightly olive coloured skin are the dark ugly scars of season's past. 011007
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diamonds do they burn still?
is it a warmth you could savor for ever?
011008
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lovers lament so hideous even perfect strangers stop to question why
i've got an aching in my heart that will never dim
i think that's why i couldn't deny your waiting arms
or your warm bed so full of empty promises and lies
you've got this shine in your eyes that makes me want to blaze
like the tip of your cigarette when you laid with me at night
you've never seen my pain when i cry for you
asleep at my side, i don't think you saw my will to make it right
but that's ok, you've never been to that place inside
and when you reach it someday, i hope it makes you alive
you always seem to walk in the light of a beautiful morning
wrapped in sunbeams so brilliant it makes me want to die
but it's alright, you'll never have to know how much i adore you.

for greg
011019
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niki this guy in my drama class has a cool one on his lip...
i just want to lick it
011019
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aeon flux i really dont like my scars, but people love to touch and trace them.
sometimes its fun to be the depressed girl.
011020
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babygirl a permanent reminder. 011031
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bloodjetpoetry smooth and rounded. what is the difference between them and our veins?

probably trains of thought.
011119
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unhinged we were both self-destructive in our own ways; maybe that's why i want to help him. whether it was blades or walking through crackhead country at 2am we both had a death wish. somedays i'm yelling to you god....other days i clutch my wrist to cover up. shame...bloody shame congealing on my tongue. waiting for you to call with my codiene and beer never taking my own advice. there is a fine line i suppose between staking your happiness on others and wanted to know that someone thinks about you. some days i look at myself and think i wouldn't even be worth the effort. and other days i would never forgive myself for making my mother cry. the world is real my dear...oh so_real. 011120
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Grievance MAybe... self destruction is a form of rebellion
against what we've accepted.
I think that's what drove me that year, and the discovery of things from the reflections of the mirror like puddles of my tears. Because i was always too damned ignorant to look up. It was easier to cry lakes of fury and hatred. I accepted nothing that once, and then it all came down.
I rebelled against them as well, they knew how to be vengeful with scars that will never heal. They sneered happily as they twisted their torture devices to try and get me to conform to their will. Pain ceases to be an issue, all that you care about is your hate.
It's when you realize they still love you that you don't know what to do anymore.
That's my sparking story. the knives that created scars seemed to also create sparks, when lashed against my steel will, steeled gaze, but open heart. to recieve the fire, and I tend the hearth in my heart daily, but it still goes out sometimes, and I have to find someone else to cut me.
Or, now, I'm finding, if you just borrow fire from the sun, you don't have to worry about letting the rain blot it out, but too much sun kills all the firewood.

-yes, that's one of my stories.
twist your own paths
011120
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ClairE Some people are bothered, I am too lazy to be fucked about preventing them.

They're all from random incidents with stupid stories behind them. Nothing profound.

But then, is anything in life?
011130
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Kati at this point in my life, i dont know anyone without scars tracing over their soul 011130
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Grievance Even stupid stories aren't stupid when you have to live them.

The profane comes from living, not from words. Words are the shuttle, though too rarely.

ClairE, have you ever thought that being bothered is no better than not being bothered? That perhaps they are equal? Not to insult you though.

Words never say enough, there's always a divergance left beneath the snow.

Preventing botheredness really isn't important. sometimes, botheredness leads to the profane, or an individuals discovery of it.

of course, all i've said so far on this page isn't profane. But, after a point even the profane becomes common sense, it's all the view from the transit.
011130
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ClairE Some people are bothered about forming their own scars from falling down the stairs or an accident playing baseball.

I don't care enough about the scarring to try to prevent scarring when I hurt myself, although I am prone to it.
011202
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Norm I've got lots of scars on my hands, legs, and feet. 011202
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not mine I would never force his fingers along the long line of it to feel the mark of another man's cut. 020620
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Rhin i have a small scar on my right knee, and above my left eyebrow from spinning and spinning really fast...and falling into a coffee table, when i was 4 years old.

i have a small scar and a piece of lead just under the surface of my skin, on my left knee, from an accidental, self-induced pencil stabbing when i was 14 years old.

i have a scar on my left shin, that should have had stitches, from falling off of my father's race car trailer when i was 15 years old.

i have a 3 inch long scar on the inside of my left leg, from a spring that poked through the side of my mother's mattress, and caught my leg as i was standing up. i think i was 17?

i have a small scar on the inside of my right ankle...the only visible remains of when my entire right foot, the ankle, and 2 inches above that, suffered 1st, 2nd and 3rd degree burns from an exploding radiator hose on a school bus, when i was 16 years old. the scar is just loss of pigmentation from one of the 3rd degree burns. it looks like a birth mark. i'm really lucky to have virtually no scars from this burn. when it happened, i lost my entire top layer and then some, of skin. the only time you can see any other remains of the burn is when my skin becomes extremely tanned. when that happens the top of my foot is lightly sprinkled with pale colored dots. these are damaged pigments. they will not tan.
021210
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jane i have plenty of small irrelevant scars, from getting burnt by a pan while i was cooking, falling off my bike as a child, etc

the most significant one is the one i won't let people see
it makes me too vulnerable
021210
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dondeestanlosjaguares i don't know what it is, but every once in a while, when I look into the mirror I see them. sometimes i can close my eyes and picture them. they're like ghosts that linger after their spirit has been disturbed and awakened from their tormented slumber. I feel them on my skin, and i feel them in my veins. the kind that are unseen haunt me the most, the visible only seem to remind me of things past, while those ghosts from the unseen scars seem to attack me whenever I am most vulnerable. Mistakes, nothing more than mistakes. Made by those around me and those that I made myself. Mistakes that have inflicted damage against myself and those i love, or once loved or even maybe hated. . .if hate ever existed in my pool of emotions. Such scars are left behind. The ghosts come back again and again, whether i've been forgiven or not, whether it's been forgotten or there's still recrimination, my conscience just won't let me sleep at times. I look at these scars tied down like links on a chain that have me restrained, i look at these ghosts and a tear rolls down my cheek, what can i do, how can i fight them off, if they haunt me from time to time. all i can do is wait for the daylight to come and send them back to where they came from. but i know they'll be back, the sun won't be out forever. can i run away? can i even pretend to hide? or maybe i should mask them away and carry on, as if nothing ever happened, but every time i do this, the scars seem to burn more. so, for now i'll leave them alone and maybe they won't bother me tonite, maybe some day they'll get tired of taunting me and just disappear. or someone may come along and caress them away with their healing touch. such mistakes will be accounted for, but i will not regret them, i will learn from them, even if i carry these scars with me forever. 030616
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pobodys nerfect When I was a child, mosquitoes loved extracting blood from my body. And I had this nasty habit of scratching the bites until they'd bleed and leave sores. Finally,my mom got so pissed off at me for doing it that she bought a box of something like 50 bandages and basically used the whole box on my body(mostly on my lower legs),threatening that there would be hell to pay if she noticed I was doing anymore scratching.
For all mom's effort,I still ended up with all kinds of "polka dot" scars. Most of them have faded away, but I still have a few of them--tiny super white dots..I really wish the rest of my legs were as pale as the scars...
030616
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nothingman scars are just permanent reminders to never make the same mistake twice... 030913
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imposter They may heal over, but they're always there, a reminder you can't ignore and can't forget.

The longer you live, the more you add.

No matter how hard we try. Scars.
030913
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no-one has anyone cut so deep that even after months the scars are red-y purple-y and stick up, instead of caving in? i have many of those.




i probably shouldnt cut so deep.
031118
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misstree for some reason, i think that the texture (innie or outie scars) is not neccesarily determined by depth... is it perhaps how clean of a cut? or something about the healing process? where's mister_wizard when you need him? 031118
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Death of a Rose scars are dependant upon, yes the depth, angle, rip or sliced, ragged or clean, the speed of suturing (if required), nutrition during the healing process.

and whether you allow them to become scars.
031118
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regentlion some have said "no one scars THAT easily"

i have a bruise
on my lip.
031201
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pipedream 'you cannot write until you have seen real life'

i'm getting there. depth and width slowly expanding. painful wide-eyed awareness {i was safer ignorant] safe is a four letter word
031202
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Doar so is love 031203
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endless desire i scrape and cut and burn
slash and let myself bleed

but then i clean the cuts
nuture the scabs
and fix the scars the best i can.

it's just strange to find myself cleaning these self inflicted wound with such care. it's not like some accident where it stings and is upsetting. cool and calm and collected, i tend to them, putting anti-scarring medicine on them and such things. i dont want to remember these days.

there all in some haze anyways.
040123
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Norm I have scars on my knuckles... I have scars on my palms, I have scars on my wrist and arms. I have scars on my shoulders and many on my back. My face. I have a scar on my neck. There are scars on my legs and feet.

Each scar has a story, some of them still have wounds beneath them. Some them have two or more, being reopened, literally or otherwise.

I'm a solider of a life lived. They are my battle scars.
040201
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damaged good i have seven scars on my left wrist. long, deep and vertical.the first scars i have ever self inflicted, i have mediteraean blood,so the scars will be ugly, keloid.the scars are forming rigt now,the wound is a week and a half old.i did it because i felt alone,but these scars will alienate me a;; the more.i never noticed how beautiful my wrists were, last night, looking at my right wrist. smooth, white as snow,blue and greens veins pulsing underneath.i ruined that forever, someday , someone, a stranger or not, will say , what happened to your wrist?i will have to lie. 040202
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reue can you see mine? 040202
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stork daddy after receiving the new belt, they make you run the gauntlet, whipping you with their belts the entire time. i think i'm scarring. and it felt so good. 040218
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al dinte I have scars on my face

i hate the way I look

i feel ugly and incomplete and can't stop thinking about them

i can't look at people and i hate them to look at me

after i got them i hid away from everyone i know for a year and then had to face the world with a face i want to hide

i'll see those people again in three weeks

it scares the life out of me - i have a lump in my nose that could mean more scars and it scares me

i hate my scars but i shouldn't complain because there are people far worse off than i am

everything scares me

i feel shallow

i feel alone

my body is a Judas

i'll never be able to be close to a partner again

my fear of living is killing me
040220
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emmi he lay down with his head on my lap and i touched his hair, pausing at the scars. he told me he fell down the stairs as a baby.

we talked about how, when you caress someone, you always caress the scars first.

he asked if i had any but all i had to show him were mosquito bites.
he didn't mind, and touched me anyway.
040225
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JUSTme All over my fore farms ... around 50 so over layering eachother... makes for some good stories... but not with ur parents 040226
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Eowithien I can't help it but want more. They tell stories all by themselves, even without my jumbled and frightened explanations. There are not enough to satisfy my sadness and hunger for pain. 040228
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Eowithien I can't help it but want more. They tell stories all by themselves, even without my jumbled and frightened explanations. There are not enough to satisfy my sadness and hunger for pain. 040228
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poison cherry i don't know how i get them. afterwards, i forget. later i'll be on the phone 'how did that get there?' i'll mutter. 'what?' she says 'oh i have this scab on my ankle. odd.' i reply. 'how did that get there?' 'oh i must have cut myself with a razor' 'you cut yourself?' 'while shaving' i tell her. i don't think it's a lie. i can't remember. the pain is gone, so i don't need to. 040308
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paris I don't know if I should care about them. They're deep, but acne scarring can be worse. I still feel like a freak. I wisj they'd fill in.

I had injections into my face to raise them but it did little else but sting and bruise.

There has to be something a doctor can do.

I don't feel as ugly as I look.
040322
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strawberryxgash I miss them when they start to go away. My reminders not to love, or trust, or want, or believe. 040325
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mine i have six(6)small holes in my right foot. and i was told that it is from birth 040816
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tit i bang, i bite, i scrap, i cut, never enough to scar, the scars are inside and not brought on by anything i've done. by the mother who left, by the father who never existed, by the families that died and the ones left who let me believe i was the murderer, by the loved ones that showed their love in abuse, neglect, abandonment, the pain i inflict on myself cannot compare. and so maybe i do it jsut to prove that no matter how much i hate myself, no matter how much pain i can cause myself, i am still the only one who i can trust, the only one who wont make anymore scars 040928
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Lemon_Soda Scars remind me of the events that made me...

was I smiling or was I scared?

Both. I'm glad I have them and I'm happy to recieve more...and they always mean something important. Pay attention. You'll know what the lesson was.

"Why" is a dangerous word because just like "why" it's answer can go on forever...
040929
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zanna scars are sexy; they tell stories. 050713
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*Amy* how am I suposed to hide them now that I have to wear a bikini in front of my parents and sister??? 050713
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Lemon_Soda Why would you ever want to hide them? Their part of you. You either got them on purpose, so you should be proud, or you got them by accident or malicious accident, so their not your fault. Either way, it should be okay to show them.


Unless they just wouldn't understand...but then, an objective view like that can really open eyes about things.
050714
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fakeplasticjenn We're covered in them, you and I. 060524
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i name my razorblades why does everyone keep saying their cutting scars are white??? even my lightest ones across my arm are pink. deep ones stick up and are pink. pink is everywhere, i see no white. 060704
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LS I've changed.


see scar_garden
060704
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*Amy* he asked me if I had any scars, I said no and covered my wrist with my sleeve...what a perfect question in that perfect moment. my 2 worlds, black and white, became one, but I couldn`t let them meet each other 060806
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evilpunkrawker i love my scars.
each of them are a different memory.
another painful memory.
a memory of you.
hurtful.
screaming.
the thin line between love and hate.
070429
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krupt -are like little dotted lines on wich to cut again
-are like road maps for all the depression youve been thru
-allow other people to judge me
-allow you to judge yourself
-show me the next morning just how crazy i am...
-make me want to hurt mself again
-i love them
-make me feel unique
-make me even more depressed
-make me drink
-make me think
-make me want to make more of them
-make me want to forget about her
-make me want to show her what she has done to me
-make me stay in bed
-make me want to just press harder
-make me see ghosts
-make me hope theres something more to life
-make me want to hide in the shadows and decend into the deepest parts of hell... i miss you
080116
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krupt -are like little dotted lines on wich to cut again
-are like road maps for all the depression youve been thru
-allow other people to judge me
-allow you to judge yourself
-show me the next morning just how crazy i am...
-make me want to hurt mself again
-i love them
080116
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In_Bloom Don't like at mine with pity
Please don't
Mine are testament to my survival
And how something in me loved life so much as to keep me hanging on against the malice of another
*It's important to find those who aren't afraid of scars*
081030
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hsg scars don't scare me. it's the plain, boring, and those afraid to live or more accurately afraid to let others live that scare me. 081030
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snook Heal fast, scar easy. 101008
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flowerock. Still healing. I think I heard you mention them recently. I think I either imagined that or decided to remember it as imagined. I remember their birth and how shocked I was and how I tried to stay calm when I saw how deep the cuts were. It was not what I expected and that was only the beginning. I think I decided to remember alot of those experiences as 8magined or insignificant. I didn't want them to turn into scars, on my skin or on my soul, but I think they're still there. I think I did it to myself even he did the actual damage, because I allowed it and I stayed even when I didn't allow it. I basically lived with consensual_rape for a year or two. Not really consensual... but tolerated if I stayed, right? I read a story about a woman who was raped while she was drunk at a party. My first thought was "why was sent drunk in a house full of strangers?" That seemed stupid. The reality is that she shouldn't have had to worry about rape or violence, instead of rape someone should have made sure she was ok and covered her with a blanket or something. I'm confused about my experiences with my ex. I feel violated and angry and scared and numbed. Some days I think it was just that he and I weren't sexually compatible and I was trying to be what he wanted by engaging in things I hated that hurt and scared me. Other days I remember taking a shower after a long day of loading furniture into trucks trying to ignore his texts about the other women he was fucking and then having my head pushed under the running water into the tile and being fucked while I yelled and tried to push him off of me from behind. I bit and kicked and screamed and failed and it didn't usually work. In the end I'd just be angry and go for a long walk or get really high and pass out or get a burrito or cry until I threw up.
I still don't know how I feel or what I think about it. It still bothers me and it is causing me problems in my life now. I am sexually defective, sexually challenged and sometimes the idea of sex just makes me feel tense and stressed, even though it is now a wonderfuloving beautiful almost always enjoyable experience with someone I love, I still feel these old weights and I feel insane.
160612
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flowerock. Not all of the time though, I have more good days than bad days now, but I'm still climbing. 160612
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tail-devouring snake mdma 160612
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Lemon_Soda They always ask.


Makes me afraid to take off my shirt, sometimes.

But not really...
160614
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