The scars on my heart are not like the ones on my arms
Not made by knives or tries to control my environment and destiny
Each wound is mine to have and to hold, as I turn cold
Colder than winter and frozen hopes
That belief that someday I’d be loved for me and what I’d done
That I couldn’t be replaced by another
Who never really cared the way I do
The holes in my hands are deep, but not as deep as the ones you made
The throbbing hurt comes from rejection,
Denial of who I am to you
Of what I’ve done for you
Of how much I love you.
And deeper they go
Each time you ignore me
Each time you replace me
Each time you say, “I know Him not.”
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Tags: Blood, Christ, Cross, Emotions, God, God's Love, Jesus, Knives, Love, Mutilation, Pain, Peace, Poems, Poetry, Rejection, Sacrifice, Scars
