Scars, Paper cuts, and Love

You know what’s the difference between a scar and a paper cut. A scar leaves a mark behind and it reminds us of an experience we had. But that does not mean we will not do that thing again because we enjoyed the danger feeling. The thrill feeling of almost getting hurt and once we do we have a memory, somewhere people can point to and ask what’s that to hear the story that comes with that imperfection.

A paper cut is different.

It stings to the core because you never expected the paper you touch everyday to hurt you. It’s a result of a normal thing, not an adventure which most scars result from. So you put a bandage over your paper cut so that the water does not sting when you wash your hands, or maybe you just want to call a little more attention to it because you know no one will notice otherwise.

While washing your hands you forget that it’s there only to remember when the water seeps through the open wholes of the bandage you tried so hard to cover it up with. You remember how foolish you were to turn the paper in a way that it would cause you this discreet pain. At the end of the day, you take the bandage off knowing no one will notice it enough to ask if you are okay. But you will feel it every time water touches it.

Foolish of you, you will learn to trust paper again because the mark is no where close to the size of a scar and you kind of forget that it’s there. So you trust that this paper will be different until it happens again. But by this time no bandage is needed, you are way too use to the feeling and the water doesn’t even sting that bad anymore. You start to be cautious with paper, constantly watching your hands.

Paper cuts happen when you try to do routines too quickly. It makes you stop, take a step back, recall your time before the paper cut. Only to continue your routine again. But no one will ever really notice because paper cuts are never as serious as scars, but who made up that rule anyway?

Advertisement

Unheard of

I am in a box

Trapped between Windows

Through the sunlight, I see my reflection

Beautiful

In the dark

I can’t identify myself

Sometimes

I confuse my closed eyes with darkeness

I see her

Desperate

To see her image imagined in her mind

Hoping the sunlight will bring it to life

But waiting for sunlight after reaching darkness is like waiting for a rose to regrow in the winter

Unheard of

I Have Thought About it Too

I know you’ve thought about suicide

You suffer looking at yourself in the mirror

Staring at every gut thinking about cake, rice, and ice cream

Thinking how she could ever stay so long with a hairy chested man like you

Or how that beautiful little girl with her brown eyes looking straight up at her hero could ever be yours

You never thought that such an ugly person could make something so beautiful

I know you have thought about suicide

I could see it every time you ask me if I am okay

I ask in return and you get mad when I could hear that you aren’t

I know you’ve thought about suicide

Because we grew up in the same household and I’ve thought about it too

I Am You

I reread you like a passage I did not understand

Or a speech I did not hear properly

Your hair flows, brown and blue, like the wind

But its colors only visible to my eyes

No one sees the tears before class

sleepless mother, painless grandmother, helpless father

And the countless amount of lost dreams

I know what it is to cry to no one

To live in a brick wall you created yourself just so someone can tear it down

And find that the hard exterior leads to an empty space

Ready for love, memories, and moments…

I reread you like a passage I did not understand

Or a speech I did not hear properly

Just to realize that

You are me and I am you

Growing Niece

We sung into the remote you called our microphone

The space outside of our bodies was a sold out audience

When I got too tired and sat on the edge of the bed

You touched my hand and asked me to dance

But I left for a year

Naively imagining nothing would change

I sung hoping you would chime in

But the remote was a remote

i danced around your toes hoping they might want to move with me

But they stood still

And I stood hoping I never left

Alarm

I sat wondering if he would come home

Every footstep, cough, flushing toilet

A loud alarm to alarm me that he wasn’t there

In the morning I smelled toast and strawberry banana smoothie

My favorite

But he was not there again

i woke up too late

Slept through his alarm

And missed him again

Secrets

I reject how I feel

So you won’t know how easy it is to break me

But my scars turn into open wounds with the sound of your voice

As I bleed into your hands

You’re brown eyes look at me with confusion

Asking why I let you hold my blood

And not my secrets

The truth is it is safer that way

Blood cells could reproduce

Secrets cant be untold

Pedals

I saturated myself in the melody of your voice

And called my new style soft spoken

Because your thunder words demolished my rainbow scent.

And suddenly my red, purple, blue, orange, green, and yellow

Mixed together and turned to brown

Like dirt; ignored, thirsty, and dry.

You walked all over me.

I cracked when you looked at me with disgust at the bottom of your shoes

As if the nutrients of my soul did not grow your pedals.

Sharing Space

I am closer to you

Closer than I have ever been

Even when we sat in the same room next to each other,

Sharing space

Alone Again

I took out my big blue suitcase

Inside was the emptiness I had lost

I did not want to regain it

So I started to put in my fall clothes for when I go back to school

My mother walked in

Her eyes widen

Her heart dropped as she realized I only had a week left

And the emptiness I had lost was now found in my mother’s arms

And her thoughts of being alone again