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POETRY: Panic Room


To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved – George McDonald




I have scars
I have scars like you
I can show you but you won’t see
I have cuts too and bruises,yes
But I don’t hurt as easily as you

You have scars
From bus rides
Races, amusement parks
And kitchens,yes
You have cuts and bruises and burns
So you think you hurt more than me

But you see,
Even if I can’t show it
Even when I seem invincible
Even though my skin’s tougher
And smooth
Even though you think I’m ice and stone

I hurt in several places
All at once
My scars never heal
My cuts are too deep
My bruises remain fresh
My skin is not so tough

Because my scars
I didn’t get from jolly rides
Or bus rides
Not from family time
Or the playground
No,I’m not so lucky

This scars you can’t see
Its from placing people in
My heart;
Watch them be ripped away
By death,by distance,by excuses
Its from caring too much

So when I seem invicible
And cold
When I wear that chilling smile
When I cut our conversations short
Those days I seem to be miles away
I’m right here in my Panic room


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