Invisible Scars

Oh what irony it is…

Raw jagged lines, clawed to the bone

Scars on my soul, ornament my heart

They burn me through and through

What a sweet relief pain is

Oh what irony it is

When pain makes me forget pain

When you need visible scars

To hide your invisible ones.

 

All we need is another chance

To screw up more thoroughly
than before.

The world is blind,

What irony it is

When we keep asking for chances

A million second chances

A shot to get shot again.

 

We spend our time

Knitting our shrouds

Digging in deeper

The deeper the better

Oh what irony it is

When we pack our scars

And cleanse our souls with sins

Till in our shrouds we lie.

-Yogya

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