Poets is powered by Vocal creators. You support Adam Khamis by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Poets is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

Healing Scars yet Healing... Scars

She looked at my thorn of love & lies and smiled, yet nothing... nothing compared to the pain of her rainbow acrylic claws lacerating my complexion.

I made this crown
Using the stems of the withered flowers.

Healing scars.

-A masterpiece? Receive the master's peace.

The chains of the past once bruised my ankles

Ensuring I never moved

Bonded to my spirit ensuring I never moved on

They rattled with every step

Tripping everyone who dared travel my way

Alone in that place I remained,

My feet remained nailed down,

Crippled from nails of uncertainty

Reaching for heart shaped lock picks to set me free

Tugging and buckling

They hammered against the rugged metal

Those sweet and sour flowers

Chipping against steel

All heaving with frustration until they lost petal

Until you waved your hand,

And behold I walked with purpose again...

And behold I walked with purpose again...

                                                                                                         Healing scars


I chose to take graceful strides

And purposeful steps of change

But the worst came

When I realized that my untamed movements

Now allowed to tiptoe

And soon,

I slithered

In and out of beds

In and out of lives

In and out of...


In and out lies

Look at the petals falls…

Grey and withered

                                                                                                         Healing ... scars

My arms remained bonded to my chest

Crossed against my heart

Afraid of the reach out

But shielding those who dared reach in

I watched an angel swoop from the heavens

She carried a chalice overflowing with scented palm oil

Massaging my wrists for three years

In the hopes of releasing my now creased arms

Even as I pushed, she held my arms

And whispered:

                                                                                              Let me heal your scars

Her gracious body crashed from the heavens.

I stared at her wings bleeding out.
Do you see the sorrow in my eyes? Or do you see her bleed?

And when she did…

I smiled and spread my arms wide to receive her angelic embrace

Then proceeded to pluck every single feather from her wings,

Until she fell to the ground and slithered…

Just like me

Crushing her wings brought me no remorse

And as she crawled, glancing at me with confusion and hurt

I whispered back to her:

                                                                                                         Healing … scars


I remember the lies spoken

The backs broken

They felt the pull

The nights radiating with recklessness

But a light shone on my back

Flashing the strips of flesh left by…


                                                                                               Let me enter your soul

I am not accountable for what you see in there.

The eye ... windows to the soul,
Open the door.

The final scar was not a scratch nor a stab mark

But a vicious toxin

That covered a putrefying muscle

Dressing it with a gentle face

It fed off their pain

It held them to its ecstasy

Karma too,

Tasted the honey that dripped from my chest

It kissed my heart

Ever so sweet,

She saw the thorny crown of gray lies that graced my forehead

And smiled…

                                                                                                                 It’s glorious

Yet nothing,

Nothing compared to the pain of her

Rainbow acrylic claws lacerating my complexion.

                                                                                                Does your heart beat?

Heavily my dear.

Heavily it beats,

For those who glimpse the future often

Become blinded by the heart's curtain

                                                                                              I can heal you, my love

                                                                                                                 Embrace me

Have you learned nothing?

Now Reading
Healing Scars yet Healing... Scars
Read Next
The Moon