Those patchwork scars Woven together by threads of memory Aren’t fading anytime soon Not with empty glass Not with blackened spoon Not with wishful thinking Not with sorrows sinking Flashbacks to things I shouldn’t have seen Places I shouldn’t have been Things I shouldn’t have done The sun won’t cleanse this darkness Time flatters to heal Yet has me hanging Like the last withered leaf on a dying tree Those patchwork scars Are bones and blood to me And I will never be clean I will never be free
this one walks in like a storm and then just… sits on the floor with you. That ‘patchwork scars’ line? It snaps. Feels like someone holding up their heart and going, ‘yeah, it’s messy, but it’s mine.’ Heavy, honest, and kind of gorgeous in its own stubborn way~
I felt every line of this poem so deeply 💚🖤 it is so difficult to feel free from the scars we carry.
this one walks in like a storm and then just… sits on the floor with you. That ‘patchwork scars’ line? It snaps. Feels like someone holding up their heart and going, ‘yeah, it’s messy, but it’s mine.’ Heavy, honest, and kind of gorgeous in its own stubborn way~
Life with scars. But continuing the journey.
But, we are still here.
Kick ass poem thanks DD!