Scars and Their Masks

A Poem by Aramey

What is this place?
The faces are foggy,
eyes, completely blank,
mouths glued shut,
There's no part in their lips,
no signal that they hear me
as I realize, I'm screaming,
and they don't see the despair
flowing from my eyes... clear droplets.
Wet memories of each scratch and tear
hovering, and then gliding down,
past the freckles on my cheek,
they're like stars, you see...
each dusting guiding the tears
to hover just beneath.
Covered in this darkness,
with secrets more plentiful
than water in the seas.
Their echoes press down,
heavy, all around me.
I'd forgotten the faces as I looked up,
each one standing... masked,
glaring at me, and I'm helpless
having to meet these demands.
Pushing, prodding, and poking,
over and over again, repetitive...
as I begin to bleed,
opening scars so abruptly.
I'm not asking for a savior,
need of no hero,
ask no labor,
I simply want a reason...
to believe,
that someday this pain,
will end, and I will again
know how if feels to be alive.
And while I cried, there,
on my knees... I noticed,
there was someone standing,
right by my side...