scars_that_make_up_me ashmanzhou now the scars that only i see from when i played and had fun flying the little slash below my knee and the stitches i had on my elbow the little pattern on my hands these tiny scars dont make up me now the scars that make me not me the ones when i was cold and dead the four long straight defined on my left arm parrelel neat lines etched into my soul six shorter not so neat or strait on my left wavering lines-my hand was shaking but these scars are never me but merely my absence soulessness be now the scars that everyone sees beginning at the tip of my left eye near my temple is my prided hate i looked at myself in the mirror that day and saw through my window'd orbs innocence and could not hold myself away from me i screamed-which saved and damned me- and drew cold steel hard the scar crosses my nose running deep and gouges my left cheekbone inflicted thus i stared and still saw myself but three gouges into my right lower eyelid and i scourged myself of that sight the last of the scars hold me back faintly if ever seen by others seven wide lines deep in my face fingernails cutting hard from below eyebrows till below nose these are the scars that everyone sees there are other scars that make up me scars on her who saved and damned me a gash across her thumb from when she wrenched the blade away from my cold fingers a pale half moon on back of her hand where she pulled my hands from bloody ruin other scars so intrinsic to her the scars no one ever sees but you them when she cries in the dark that day she had come to repent i saw her after they restored my sight to ruined eyes to mismatched eyes to eyes that made her shrink away these are the scars that make up me the damned me the accursed me and all i would change if i went back was never to have screamed aloud and brought my savior to damn me 030810 ... paranoid martyr [good one, up there] when someone asks me about my life, i just throw up all my traumas-- being always to fat to everybody, the laughters, the issued with my father, my mother's overprotection, the overcomunication and gossip tendencies i have, my physical issues [the GERD, the broken arm, the minor scratches, the tiroidal unbalance, the menstrual cramps], my fears [heights, spiders, puppets or clowns, blood, car crashes], the unluckyness [no real love, losing several crushes because they preffered my friends] and so on, just like now.. and i only do so because i'm never enough for me. poor martyr. she's so lonely and sick. 030811 ... ashmanzhou but theres a whole community of lonely ones out there martyr why dost thou wait alone and awake doth thou suppose it doth defeat the feeling of being alone im not lonely i could talk i suppose if i could avoid the stares at my face but i as you feel safe thou empty in the sane solidity of ourselves 030815 ... paranoid martyr ashmanzhou thanks for reading i dunno why i do so. i'm not that physically lonely, i have friends. but there's something carved deep inside that i still can't decode a kiss 030815 ... Spare Change a mix of melancholy a maze of morbid thought a slew of somber recollections A plethora of perverted tales an abundance of apathy are the scars that make up me Somewhere on my ankle is a burn of bitterness My torso is crisscrossed with careless curses and etched with emnity My arms are carved with condemnation and inscribed with isolation I have been molded and forged upon fires of fury and failure. 030816 ... oldephebe THAT was some really fine writing. Spare C and ah I was equally seared by ash and paranoid martyr- Kinda forgot what I was going to write. Oh well, at least I got a peek into others peoples hearts, beautiful and battleworn - I'll get to you on the whole scars that make up me or maybe not - I think I've ran my fingers, or tongue, through that rut on just about every page I've blathed on here - Let me check out what others are saying for once. you all have such an incandescance, later 030816 ... ashmanzhou incadescence burns-hard hot holy fire searing scouring scorching away all the lonliness i never quite feel all i can ever hope to feel is faint warmth sifting through dead ash 030817 ... drstrangelove hmmm ahhhh [swoon] if it didnt hurt so much .. art [perhaps thats how the creators intended] strange resonance 030817 ... User24 a barcode, right? 030831 ... mon to feel alive i am rehearsing_for_extinction intoxicate my mind with careless_quantities ahimsa infliction 030831 ... oldephebe ash - I read your opening paragraphs again and in the light of more recent revelations you have shared with us, i gotta say why would you rend what nature hath bequeathed unto you - maybe this question is intrusive, but i was really shaken by your opening salvos of screaming sorrow, or if the sorrow hath now faded to the Dim, then maybe is there a chance that your soul can be restored? ---------------------------------------- It is said that Time is the devourer of all things - mayhap then couldst it not out last the scourge upon thy spirit - such beautiful words issue out of that searing stream - can there be a truth that awaits you and only you - a way of being and thinking that could transcend the endless train of circumstantial shocks - or maybe a life can be spared even enobled if a life can change the way that it/he/she/we experience the tortuous drops of slow dripping iron, molten, exhaled newly from the forge writing it's page its passage in us - ---------------------------------------- Times tirades can be taunted can be flaunted if - i think - i'm searching for the verbiage to convey an insular metaphysicality - um - we can create something filled with power and glory in the midst of an atmosphere fetid with impending death and outrageous suffering - beyond the stumbling ministrations of the pleading preist, or the excruciating ecclesiastical aphorisms of the Baptist preacher, awash in his own gyrations into apostacy - i wish i could call out unto the dark beyond it to conjure before you what i would have you to hear - ---------------------------------------- maybe it's not my place, maybe for you pain wears a different face, a face that would send me screaming into the comfort of madness rather than compell my mind to endure the mayhem - and so the crimson curtain descends upon all this conjecture - ---------------------------------------- all my life i have wanted the ability to reach into a soul, a mind in the midst of mayhem, to reach into their trembling delerium -as someone did for me a long time ago and quieted my comfortless ache - quieted the bedlam that had besieged me in those years wherein i contended with a ceasless train of trajedy - and so maybe these words are borne of that - maybe i have no business bringing my saacherine scriptures of the sappy happy - but still i was profoundly shaken by your words --------------------------------------- - we all experience the death of hope, the death of god, the void within us opens its lurid maw - and we see the glistening cannines and feel its fetid breath - as it envelopes our heart and makes its horror our home - yes but then time is not only outside of us - right? time passes within us - call it mysticism, call it transcendance - we can take out its teeth - we can radically renovate our inner most chamber and alter those slow drips of peeling time into something else - ---------------------------------------- Still i am trying to muster the rhetoric, the authentic - maybe i've broached some unseemly transgression of the etiquette of blather or the net, i don't know - and i abhor absolutist rhetoric as much as anyone - hmm i can only offer a prayer that you're soul will find its rest... ..... 030831 ... Freak hanging up the phone that day i didn't realize that I would remember that moment for the rest of my life that it was etched into my mind forever that it was just another thing that would scar me for life 030901 ... nomatter I set mine on display. If they see them they see me. I run my finger over his. We delight in what is beautifully ugly 031009 ... user24 are thin and old 031010 ... oldephebe sing so sweetly when i allow myself to thrash blindly in my midnight shade.. When I resolve to stop looking back like Lot's wife and look into something that imbues me with the ability to mount the dark..to eshcew the music of its midnight rapture..."they looked upon His face and their faces were made radiant" yeah..something holy and transcendant singing into this swiftly evaporating shadow..my beacon my ballast..I'd like to choke my misery in the shallow water..many muddled things make up the mayhem that courses through my minds corridors...to at last wander out of this wilderness back to what had been my home since the Eye of Time first opened..i could say something trite like the serpentine fire writhes its blight...enscripted upon the pages of my life..well maybe not trite ..but still nothing revelatory..serpentine..flame writhing..not exactly a virtuosic or wholly original evocation..endless said something about praying for the breath to evaporate in her beatific lungs..yeah I get that..but reality demands that we wrestle with it..so once again..it's back up on the high horse of happy thoughts..the porcelain preacher seeking the Light already bursting through his cracks..I will not yet raise my hand against my life..set fire to all these parchment pages..the moaning minutes of my minuets with misery..3/4 and i finally tore up the score..i will not look back in anger..i will not suckle upon the failure(s) i have become so familiar with.. yeah..sounds like a plan ... 031010 ... ferret they're all in my head 031010 ... pipedream well, here's this one; the biggest and the best. i got it the first time i lost someone i thought was my friend. this one's a nasty one; it gets ripped apart every few years or so when it happens again so it hasn't ever really mended itself properly. its jagged about the edges now, and i walk tiptoe around it to keep it shut as long as it can. 031011 ... unhinged i was just keeping myself awake for these better times. it is lonely when pain is your only true friend but now through absence i'm beginning to feel my worth. no, i don't like to be victimized. i didn't make my honeycomb for you to ask what is wrong; it was letting all the poison out some oozing some flying away short-lived with little wings. and now i like so much better what i see in the mirror. sometimes it still feels bruised and battered and worthless, but i feel better now. and they helped me let the poison. i am more proud of them as they slowly fade. 031011 ... secret4185 I just have one It runs down my sternum 7 inches for that time they stopped my heart Its kind of crooked and I love it 040109 ... RoXXXie self induced symmetrical lines strategically place throughout, surgical, the remaints of a name from long ago, hints of words I can no longer remember, burns of carelessness, chicken, and sorrow 040110 ... deathofarose yes, i suppose my scars do make up me, physically and mentally. . 040110 ... magicforest . why is this page like it is? 040207 ... oldephebe a starving man splits open chicken bones to suck out the marrow 040304 ... quotree "Be grateful. Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real." -Hannibal Lecter {Red Dragon} 040412 ... sahba lots more of mind than flesh though 040412 ... x he said i looked mostly the same as he had remembered, except for a few new scars 040412 ... unhinged grateful for the past being real? when i spent so much time trying to chase it away? no, i am not grateful that my past was real. i would not change it, but i am not grateful for pain and suffering. 040412 ... misstree you made it through. you will never have to endure that particular pain again. you have learned and grown from it. "scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. realize the strength and move on." -henry rollins and insert some quote i can't remember about how once an experience has affected us, it can never do so again, it becomes part of the dead past. 040413 what's it to you? who go blather from