A warrior in a deep thicket,
where the path lies hidden,
thoughts are buried in shadows.

Legs hang heavy,
arms bear carved stories,
eyes—emptied of light—
still search for a road unseen.

I was scrolling through Pinterest
when I saw a drawing
of a girl with flowers sprouting from her head
watering herself
I felt the scars on my thigh—
the ones only I can see—begin to itch
So I decided
I would tattoo that drawing over
my war marks
so I’d never do something like that
to myself
again

Why did you only love me when I made you proud?
Why didn’t you help me when I asked for it?

Why did you threaten to leave me behind?
To send me away?
To give me to someone else?

Why did you blame your illness on me?
Why did you say I wouldn’t even cry if you died?
Why did you tell me I could leave anytime —
And never show my face again?

Why do you still say things that hurt?

I hate that I can’t talk to you.
I hate that I can’t ask for help —
Can’t ask for something I need, like other kids do.

I hate that I have to hide the cuts.
That I have to lie about the bruises.
That I have to pretend I’m okay.

I hate coming home.

Why did you treat me like an adult when I was still just a child?
Why did you guilt-trip me...
And then confess why you did it —
As if that made it okay?

Why did you do that?
Why did you hurt me like that?

My nails carved scars into my skin,
As if pain could remove the feeling that lingers within.
Blood spills on my body frame
Yet it cannot clear the filth I feel.

I scrub and scrub,
No soap, no water, no time
Can rinse away the weight of shame

How strange this world is
So loud, yet it never heard the screams
That once lingered in those walls

I tried to escape the shadows that gripped my ankles.
To run from the arms that pinned me down.

I choked on silence that was my peace
I tried to ***** out the disgusting taste
But it stuck to the roof of my mouth
A bitter feeling that won’t go away no matter how hard i tried

The bruises faded,
But the memory never did.

My cries for help, once strong
Just disappeared
A small plea for Nothing big.
Time passed
Now it was not where to be seen .

I've been meaning to write this for so long,
To tell you how I see you
Sometimes wrapped in shades of blue,
A quiet calm that lingers in your steps.
And then there are days you glow in purple,
Radiant in the light, like dusk softly kissing the sky.

I love the way your hair finds itself
Tied in a bun, neat and graceful,
Or braided down your back,
Revealing its endless length,
A cascade of midnight flowing free.

Some days, I greet you face to face,
And on others, I linger behind,
Watching you walk away
Thinking how the red of your dress
Dances with the flower in your hair,
A fleeting flame that burns quietly in my mind.

I adore your smile
How it arrives unannounced,
And your eyes
Always glistening, always bright.

I smile, too, when I spot your bus in the morning,
And find myself just hoping -
Hoping to catch a glimpse of you,
As if that alone could brighten my day.

Every evening, when I walk home,
One thought follows me like a shadow
Will I see her today?

My friends know how foolish I am when it comes to you
How your name is carved into every joke they make,
And how no one dares touch
That one red and silver pen
The one that feels like yours somehow.

I keep thinking back to that Teacher’s Day
The way you stood on stage,
Draped in purple,
Frozen in a moment I never want to forget.

And I know
I'll always carry these colors with me,
A canvas painted in shades of you.

A cry in the night
Thin yet sharp
Unheard, yet never unspoken.

Why? Why did they turn away?
Why did my voice fall like a leaf
Trembling and twisting  
yet never caught?
I reached out i swear i did
But not far, not loud
But enough
enough for someone to notice.
Or so I thought.

Was I too small, too plain, too quiet
To be worth the reach of a hand?
Was I too ordinary to be saved?
Too forgettable to be found?

I cried, but no one listened.
I begged, but no one answered.
My voice cracked and broke
And still nothing.

Tell me was I not enough for you ?
Not special enough  to matter to you?

I tried to stand tall,
But my legs shook beneath me.
I tried to be strong,
But my ribs felt too small to hold any breath i took
I swallowed the screams again and again
Until they rotted inside me
Turning my chest tight and until i felt it on my body
Turning my mind into a maze I couldn’t escape , maybe i never will.

I waited.
For a knock at the door,
For a voice to call my name,
For someone or anyone to come see me,
To see the shadows swallowing me whole

But no one came.

So
I learned to smile enough
To keep all the questions away.
I laughed loud enough
To bury the sound of my shattering heart
I wore my strength like armor
Heavy and suffocating
But convincing enough to fool them all.

And still... I waited.
Waited for someone to notice
That under the brave face
Was a soul in great pain

Tell me , was really so easy to forget?
So simple to not care
Did no one see the way I flinched every time
Did no one notice the way I held my breath whenever there footsteps neared my bed

I used to dream that someone would save me that someone would see through the silence
And wrap me in arms that felt safe.
I used to believe that love
real love l
Would find me before I disappeared completely.

But now that I wonder.
Maybe some people aren’t meant to be saved
People like me
Maybe some cries are meant to die out in the night
Forgotten and unheard

And maybe that cry in the night
just maybe.
It was never meant to matter at all.

I know my father.
A man never abandoned
always forgiven
never asked to carry a weight that bent his back.

A boy who never chased a dream
never felt the hunger that keeps you awake at night.
Life was gentle with him.
When storms came,
he didn’t have to run home,
home was already warm
waiting
unchanged.

As a child, he was loved
and never lost the things he loved.

But life shifted when he had a daughter.
The ground hardened beneath his feet.
He wished then that he had built something stronger,
worked harder while the clock was still his.

Maybe that’s why his voice became stone.
Why did his love feel like punishment.
Why did he tell me things a father should never speak aloud —
told me I should just die
if I couldn’t carry the weight,
told me to walk away
if I couldn’t win the fight.

How could he carve wounds into my skin
when his own had never been cut?

He was once like me,
but fate wrote him a softer story
and now he writes mine with sharper ink.

Last night I opened the door to a fear I do not know,
a stranger from the street.
Its overwhelming silhouette now casting over my feet.

It greeted me like a neighbour,
tightly gripping at my hand,
a warmth not becoming of the spectre I did not understand.

For my life I've carried this scar.
A symbol of my mother's mercy,
A blessing of a life for which others have been thirsty.

I quietly parade it in defiance,
that slender crescent moon,
rising from my skin so as not to be forgotten.

Now I stand at the doorway of my conscience
and warily make acquaintance,
with the helpless fear that long feasted on my mother's patience.

I gaze at you every night
as you seem to be my light
You shine in the sky
and refelct in my eyes
your the prefect moon
and I hope to be with you soon
Brighter than the stars
reminds me others have scars
Your the wonder of my heart
Your a peice of art
when I die
I hope that I will rise
and be with you
weather your white or blue
I still look above
as you shine your love

Scars within whisper tales only your soul can hear,
Silent stories hidden deep, beyond the world's ear.
In shadows they softly speak, of pain and grace,
A secret song of healing, in your quiet space