The green ribbon
The green ribbon I wear is bright,
Proud and stand-of-ish.
Though its meaning is not so bright
For it is rather dark,
The stigma around it is big, to big to conquer with a
Sword and horse,
As they do in fairy tales.
For life is not as fairy tales, and what I "proudly" wear isn't so proud.
For the scars I wear are scary,
Dark and unwanted-
Though they tell my story
Where i've been,
The battle I've fought.
The battle I will never win.
Thin and dark,
Never to be forgotten, but forgotten enough to disappear.
Will they ever disappear to me?
If they're gone physically are they actually gone?
Without them I am not whole,
I'll forget all I've been through.
I need them, I need them to remind me
To show how proud I am for surviving
To show how ashamed I am for fighting this battle.
Running my hand down feeling them. I feel cold, satisfied.
Wondering,
what if I lost my battle?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Human Mind
PoetryA true look into a teenage girl's brain that is suffering, a girl that is not looking for help, but for someone to listen.
