Prize Poetry

Girl with the Scars #3

by a young woman, age 14

I am that person in your class you won't talk to
Because I'm so different I scare you
You don't know me, nor do you want to
I am the one whom you ignore

I am the messed up one always hiding my scars, even when no one's looking
I am the helpless one, that no one cares enough to hurt
Sometimes I wonder what you all would say
If you’d ever notice these deep scars on my skin and soul

Would you ask why?
Would you ask if it hurt?
Would you say anything at all?
Or would you simply look away?

I am the one with the scars screaming
Yet I have nothing to say
Where are my words?
The pain must have stolen them away
Or perhaps it was the fact no one was listening

When I draw the knife over the endless lines
I can't help but wonder
As I make these scar, do I win?
Or lose?
Is this terrible habit me fighting or am I giving up?

By cutting am I letting her break me
Simply with her memory?
I am the girl who never stopped bleeding
Years later, but the crimson tears go on

I am human
I make mistakes
I have flaws
I hurt, and these scars are to show it
But isn't the thing that sets us human above animals
The fact that we can change?

Perhaps these scars are a lesson
The ones you can see, and the ones you can't
It might not be a bad thing to have them
As long as I don't let them own me
And instead let them teach me

I am the girl you think is full of hate
Because it's me who doesn't talk to you
I'm sorry, I see it now
I'm the girl with the scars
And I'm lonely

So please talk to me
Because just maybe you and I
Aren't as different as we seem

Other "Honorable Mention" Recipients, January 2013
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