Your Poetry Dot Com - Invisible Scars

Array ( [sid] => 185148 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Invisible Scars [time] => 2018-05-24 02:56:09 [hometext] => A brilliant poet on this site gave me a brilliant line to build a poem upon; this is not to infer my peom is brilliant, mind you. [bodytext] => That fire, that burning cold
forged in a kiln composed
of solid indifference.

Raised not I
where love leaves a burnish,
a blush
sweet as a Devonshire dawn.
This fire I crawled from
ravaged and drawn,
I dragged over scrapings of
severed contempt that
left burning scars on me
in and out every inch.

That d//'//urberville life I never lived,
caught in the cross hairs of humans
with no room to love or forgive;
no time to tend kindling,
shaved thin to burn without rest,
just chunks of sighs; a drawn smile at best.

I was born in cold fire,
where scars run so deep
even I need the light just so,
the mirror of delicate adjust,
to see those invisible scars
that remind me I’m not of love,
but a moment of lust.

[comments] => 6 [counter] => 223 [topic] => 21 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Invisible Scars

Invisible Scars
Date: Thursday, 24th May 2018 @ 02:56:09 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: invierno

That fire, that burning cold
forged in a kiln composed
of solid indifference.

Raised not I
where love leaves a burnish,
a blush
sweet as a Devonshire dawn.
This fire I crawled from
ravaged and drawn,
I dragged over scrapings of
severed contempt that
left burning scars on me
in and out every inch.

That d//'//urberville life I never lived,
caught in the cross hairs of humans
with no room to love or forgive;
no time to tend kindling,
shaved thin to burn without rest,
just chunks of sighs; a drawn smile at best.

I was born in cold fire,
where scars run so deep
even I need the light just so,
the mirror of delicate adjust,
to see those invisible scars
that remind me I’m not of love,
but a moment of lust.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ invierno

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