We are all scarred. We are all flawed. We all have pain. This is where I share mine.
All content on this page is original work unless otherwise noted. Twitter: @JustCallMeScar
Black hole consumes a star
Black hole consumes a star
They say develop patience, but that shit is taking too long.
I just wanna give up, but my will is too strong.
How the hell can I find my way when there’s no blueprint?
I guess I gotta make mistakes, fall down and get back up. But what if all the falling down has gotten me in debt?
I was born in a dark hole with no hope and the likelihood of me getting out seems slim to none.
All my life, I’ve felt like I’ve been fingering the barrel of a gun….so dangerous, yet it has saved me every time I’ve needed it…….but, will it protect me from my biggest threat —- me?
(Source: scarsandflaws, via scarsandflaws)
There is this hole.
The hole is always there.
Even when you forget and are living your life, happy…
There is this hole….. The hole is always there.
How do you prevent yourself from falling? From letting it consume you?
Surely, the hole doesn’t go away by ignoring it…but, if you can’t do anything to fill it then why allow yourself to fall in?
The hole is always there.
Oh? You think you are important. You think that you are better and that the sun sets and rises for you. What’s the matter am I not appealing enough for you? Did I not follow your rules? You say be honest and be free…. what’s the matter??? You weren’t expecting to see someone as bold as me?
I am blunt and I cut straight to the point. It does not mean that I lack a certain grace or beauty that you think that you have mastered. I have never lived my life trying to fit in. I live to appease the voice within.
The Voice Within
When you die I hope you struggle to breathe because then you will know exactly how it felt when you left me.
Did your heart skip a beat?
I want you to sob uncontrollably.
And as your life flash before your eyes, I wonder will you see the image of you holding me.
Then you will know exactly what it’s like to be me.
Do you remember me? Sometimes I wanna text you to say fuck you, but I know you would just reply back with some diplomatic bullshit and say, “I wish that wasn’t the case.” Well, you know what I wish a lot of shit. I wish I never loved you so quickly. I wish I never would have given my all so easily. I wish I never would have begged you to take a fighting chance on us… on love. I wish I could have seen right through your good boy image and now I wish I could get over you…but, you are like a drug. And to be truthful, all of the memories and our feelings…I’m unable to tuck. All it takes is just the right amount of silence to bring your existence up. Then, I start thinking about all the girls you may have fucked and wonder if when you were done with making them your “girl” did you then make them your “whore”, just like you did to me. Then, I get pissed knowing that my presence in your life probably rarely conjures up any present thoughts of me. I wish I could get over you just as quickly as I fell for you. I want to tell you that I hate you, but the truth is, I hate myself for believing in a fable. Well I guess, such is life and I hope yours teaches you that you can’t play with somebody’s feelings and just say sorry. It doesn’t work like that.
Every time someone tells me I should change….it just makes me want to stay the same.
Leave is so much more depressing than left.
I’ve decided that I’m no longer gonna fight for you. I’m no longer gonna roll up my sleeves and go to war just for you. I’ve decided that I’m just much to good for you. I’ve been thinking about the deceitful games you play, like how you force me to meet and divulge all my secrets and deepest fears to perfect strangers and when they hurt me, you expect me to turn the other way. So, let me get this straight….. You expect me to keep getting hurt all for the sake of your name. You don’t even have the decency to prove to me that you’re worth searching for. I’ve experience these test trials you call “relationships”. I’m ready to close that door. The love I need I got from my mama and God. I WANTED your love. I FIENDED for your love. In my younger years, I went in full force, heart first hoping to get your love. But, you already know what happens when people go looking for you: HURT. PAIN. TEARS. and FEARS. Well not I. I’m done.
"Write shit people can relate to? Nope! That’s bullshit. Write what’s in your heart. Write what keeps you sane. Write and write til’ you feel no more pain, til’ the sound of their name no longer makes you cringe. Let writing be your one and only, your true best friend. Write in silence when the only thing you can here is your pen. Write in madness when the only thing that keeps you focus is the strength from within. Just write."
What is faith in God?? You pray every day and every night on your knees, but you get up the next day and put your faith in men. Is that what you prayed for? To be mistreated, neglected, and unappreciated, but he’s helping you pay your bills, so I guess it’s alright. If he was really your man there wouldn’t be no ties…no hangups. You wouldn’t even have to ask him to take care of you, if he truly cared for you. So, who is the He that you are praying to?
Did you forget the basis of your Christianity? Are you only Christian in your prayers? I get confused by your Christian words, because as soon as you are done praying to Him you are back to playing games with him. What type of faith is this? Is that what I have to look forward to with people in life? Are you a replica of who I will be in life? You keep thinking you will be somebody’s wife, but you never will be if you continue to take all this bullshit and strife.
They say life is what you make it. I wonder does that only deal with what you are saying. We have these amazing conversations about a limitless God, about how no matter what He will pull us through, but your actions are filled with doubt in Him. You go back to asking for handouts and dealing with a man that treats you like shit, yet you put all your faith in him.
I’m not condemning you. I know what it feels like to be paralyzed by financial debt. I know what it’s like to be completely helpless while the bill collectors are the only people who call you every day.
I guess, I said all this to say have you ever noticed when you started forsaken Him for him?
Him vs him
My handwriting is atrocious, but look at this pen…at least it’s working.
I tried to gain the strength to write everyday, but I seem to never get pass the thought of needing to write.
It’s like if I think about my dream long enough, it will manifest itself into something real…but, it never does and the side effects are always regret of all the great thoughts and lines that could have been apart of history.
But, I’m left feeling alone in my thoughts….in my misery.
Dreams won’t Manifest on their Own
I’m so unorganized that I hate myself.
I went through all that hell just to find something that would’ve took me 15 minutes to complete anyway.
On a given day, I probably spend more time daydreaming about doing the stuff than I actually do it.
Sometimes I feel like I would be more productive if I was a substance abuser.
I’m not sure how to spell your name, but I think I need you. The doctor’s haven’t diagnosed me yet, but I know I fiend for you. But, then as soon as I think of you I forget about you and start thinking of something else that will stimulate my brain.
Where’s the cocaine?
I know the side effects will be quite harsh. I know that as time progresses you will make me look a bit hard, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. In fact, I would probably be better of that way.
I mean.. just what the fuck is wrong with me. Even in writing this fucking poem. I zoned out, started doing some other shit, came back and tried to remember what the fuck I was doing?
I be praying for focus, to no avail. I feel like it’s a sin to be this way, so I’m probably going to hell. When judgment day comes, God will probably give some type of speech telling us why we are all here and I won’t hear the half of it because I’m off in my own world.
I’m in college pursuing my dreams, but all I can dream about is my fantasies. In some strange way, this feels like infidelity but the only person I’m cheating is myself — Out of an education on the one hand and out of a chance to live out my fantasies on the other.
This shit I think about can’t just be thoughts. This feels like real shit, and I know that some dreams should be fought for. But how in the hell do I fight myself?