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Literature by Candlemind

Writing by messie2624


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Submitted on
January 10
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I want to tell a story,
but this story isn't a fairy tale
and it wont have a happy ending,
because the real ones, well
they never really do.


In high school
I picked up my pen
and I began to write
about love.
It existed and it was pure
and it was lovely.


But my rapist rewrote me.
breathing on my neck
and tracing my back with his fingers.
He rewrote me as broken.
He wrote me as a statistic,
as another white girl who got told
that she cried rape for attention.


But that didn't matter because see,
I wanted to tell a story.
A story about family,
about picking each other up
about blood being thicker than water
about how not everyone's home
had to be broken.


But my father rewrote me.
When i picked up my pen
he spoke words to me
that I swear bruised my whole body
and I learned that nothing
was thicker than his alcohol
and my home was already shattered.


But I wanted to tell a story.
so I picked up my pen
to write about god.
A God that could save anybody
And God loved everybody,
which was the only thing I craved.


But my best friend rewrote me
when She told me I was toxic and
that God only loves those
who love the right people,
and I got writers block
because I didn't understand
that love could ever be wrong.


So after awhile I decided
that i wanted to tell a story,
but this time i picked up a razor
to unwrite all the things
that everyone else had;
the alcohol and the rape,
the abandonment,
the brokeness.


I wanted to tell a story.
I wanted to tell my story.
So I sat in my bathroom
night after night
writting about loneliness
perfection, ignorance,
arrogance, love.


See I told my story.
My story was painful
and misunderstood
because no one took time
to read it, but now,
people would read me
everytime they look at my scarred body.


My story is in the scars on my thighs
that he caressed like he owned
while I was tied to his bed
with my own leggings.


I told my story with scars on my wrist
the day my father grabbed me
and put me against our back door
with his fingers around my neck.


I told my story with scars on my stomach
after my grandmother disowned me
and my mother told me if i tried hard enough
I wouldn't love women.


My body see, It tells a story.
A story that is frequently displayed
for everyone to read.


You see when people write
they make themselves vulnerable, they open up
to the shit world they live in to share a piece of them
but they can hide behind a book cover
or an anonymous name.


They wrote with pens but me,
I wrote with a razor blade.
See, i have made myself vulnerable.
I am my own book cover,
and you know how the saying goes
well they judge me by the way I look.


I wanted to tell a story, and I did.
But no one reads it.
All they see is scars.
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:icontheshipperoflove:
theshipperoflove Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
This is absolutely beautiful yet sad. I am so very sorry this happened to you. 
The way things were worded was amazing and very awe-inspiring. Definitely keep writing these.
A very good read! *hugs* :tighthug:
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:iconroamingshadow:
RoamingShadow Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
That was quite possibly one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever read... and it was beautiful. Before anything else, I need to praise you for having the strength to not only write down such overwhelming emotions, but managing to organize so many harsh and painful thoughts into an amazing poem. You not only told your story, but you did it so well. Here, a hug :hug:

Perhaps if there's anything that I was bothered by, it was your use of the word unwrite, but maybe that's just me. It didn't seem the the one. Maybe consider finding a synonym for erase, strike or edit. That aside, I don't think anything else needs to be reworded in this piece. Your metaphor on "writing down" a story and how each person "rewrote" you is a wonderful and fits perfectly works wonderfully with your theme of wanting to tell a story. You're very direct here, and I love that. You don't attempt to add in too flowery or complicated language that disrupts the piece's tone. And that ending! Reading the title, I sort of expected that it would be dropped somewhere in the poem. While I expected it, it didn't take away any of it's impact.
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:iconchecker-print-ties:
checker-print-ties Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2014   Writer
Brought tears to my eyes.
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:iconbrooklyntux:
BrooklynTux Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014  Professional General Artist
Deep.  Good read.  Thank you for the strength you have in opening up <3
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:iconhecticharmony:
HecticHarmony Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you (:
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:iconmissmerder1990:
missmerder1990 Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014  Student Artist
im so sorry this happened to you.  i know it must get over wellming a lot. but, thank you for wrighting this. i thnk it opened a lot of eyes. you are an amayzing wrighter.
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:iconhecticharmony:
HecticHarmony Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
thankyou, that was the goal. I appreciate the comment (: :tithug: 
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:iconmissmerder1990:
missmerder1990 Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2014  Student Artist
no problem! Huggle! 
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:iconart-lover221:
Art-lover221 Featured By Owner Feb 6, 2014
Really Sad  That was the most sad and also kinda beautiful poem I've ever read and it's just really heartbreaking you are a great writer.
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:iconhecticharmony:
HecticHarmony Featured By Owner Feb 6, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. Huggle! 
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