Scars on His Heart I trace the scars along his chest, counting to ten as I hold my breathe, I sense him staring, Trying to find, The look of disgust in my eyes, I whisper, 'you won't find it', 'Its not there' Then roll up my sleeves, And lay my arms bare, I search his eyes, Wondering how long they've had to disguise, The pain, the tears, The secrets, the fears, 'Its okay now, I'm here' As I say this, I see the last barriers collapsing, He leans forward and grips onto me, His touch everlasting, I want to find out the secrets inside, His hopes, his dreams, Let our hearts collide He kisses my scars and whispers a promise, 'We'll stay strong together,' 'Honest'

Jamie At least he realised how important this was for me. He could never truly understand but at least he tried, he tried so hard. His hand gasped mine as we pulled up at the end of the lane. He turned to look at me as the engine cut off, "You know you don't have to do this, you don't have to put yourself through anything you don't want to. We can turn around now, honestly babe, I don't mind, it's fine," he said to me, his eyes boring into mine. For what felt like the millionth time, I noticed how gorgeous his eyes were, the colour, blue as the sea mixed with green, a deep emerald green that reminded me of the colour of Jamie's old wallpaper at our last family house. It was small things like that that crushed me. I looked away biting my lip. This wasn’t about Riley though, it was about Jamie and I had to make a decision. My heart ached with the thought that he could be in a house just down the road, living, breathing and almost mine. Almost. I had to do this. "Riley," I turned back to him, "You know I have to do this, I, I can’t put it into words-" I broke off, angry with myself for not being able to explain better, how I wanted to. "Shh, Shh, it's ok, we've been over this, go, really, go and get Jamie," he tried to smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. I nodded feebly. I had no choice; I couldn’t live knowing I missed my chance. "No, Riley, please don't make this hard, I have to go, really, you understand that don't you?" I didnt wait for an answer, I couldn't bare to. He didnt understand and he would never understand, no one would really. I took a deep breath and kissed him on the cheek, careful not to let my lips linger, I didnt want to leave now, i couldnt make it worse. I couldnt look him in the eye as i turned and got out the car. "I'll wait here, right?" he tried to smile, "And if I see you come running down the street being chased by some loon then we'll do that great escape we talked about, yeah?" I managed a smile for him, I sensed he needed it as much as me. Then I exhaled deeply and started walking. I couldnt look back, if i did i knew it would be to hard, for both of us. This was so hard for Riley, I knew he hated that he wasnt with me, but I had to do this alone, there was no other way. Riley would be there waiting for me after I got out, either crushed or elated. Which ever one I knew he'd be there for me. A great weight lifted off my shoulders as i thought that, knowing that i did have someone, that I wasnt entirely alone. It was a pretty street, houses with red doors, thatched roofs and ivy crawling up the walls, archways covered in vines and rosemary growing in the front garden, cobbled pathways and the smell of mint everywhere. Mint. Jamie hated the smell of mint. The Jamie I remembered would've hated every single bit of this, like something off a postcard, he'd say, totally unrealistic. But Jamie had lived here for the past 4 years, it was so hard to believe. My heart thumped like it wanted to break my ribcage, it wanted Jamie, I knew that. It ached for him, for so long it had waited, now finally we were opposite the house, his house, no, the house he lived in, thats all, he would never fit in here, no way. Though I wasnt even convincing myself. My hands were shaking violently as i faced his house. My feet shifted on the pavement back and forth, this was my last chance to back away, to give up and run back to Riley's waiting arms. This was my last chance. The house was mostly the same as the others- a cottage with a thactched roof and ivy crawling up the walls, honeysuckle entangled in the crisscrosses of the wooden archway that stood roughly in the middle of the path. Either side of it were flower beds, petunia's and foxgloves, hidrangers and lavender, herbs too, mint and thyme, rosemary and basil. There was no grass really at all, no lawn, and what little there was wasnt covered in garden toys like rackets and balls or even a bike leant against the wall, nothing showed that a child lived here, nothing at all. It looked idylic, the area, this road, the houses, and the fields they backed onto running onto to the brook. It all seemed perfect, I was glad Jamie had been somewhere nice for the past 4 years. Though it was hard to imagine how he'd of fitted in at first, the place so picture perfect after the nowhere near perfect #life we'd lead before. I felt uncomfortable being here, even now. You could see the house was old if you looked closely, I could tell by the way the stone path had cracked and weeds were sprouting up from beneath, how the paint on the door was peeling off in places and how the gate leading onto the property was rusted, the gate I stood in front of, procrastinating. The curtains of one of the downstairs window's, the one on the left, were pulled back slightly to reveal a face peering back at me, a man with a qisical expression, it was too late now. I heaved a deep breath and pushed open the gate, the smells of the herbs and flowers mingling and making my nostrils flare. I held my breath as I stood on the step leading up to the door, did Jamie really live here? I knocked twice on the door, two short knocks, as there was no doorbell to ring. I waited, contemplating escape for the last time before the door opened and my #life, possibly, changed dramtically forever. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, drumming in my head, over and over, forming a beat, an underlayer to all my words, the rhythem to which to my heart pounded.

Out Of The Flames I flicked the lighter on, off, on, off; the glow of the flame illuminating my face in the darkness of the attic. I wanted to set everything alight, see fire ripple and burn through every single thing, turning my #life to ashes. I wanted clouds of smoke to fill my lungs, to suffocate and choke and drift its way through everything. I wanted orange and red tongues, flicking and licking their way over skin, burning and charring bones, to envelope me, consume me, to overwhelm everything and everyone. I wanted to feel fire in my blood, running through my veins, see it glow under my skin and surround my beating heart. I wanted to destroy and conquer, to fall and be defeated; I wanted to live and breathe danger, chance and possibility. I wanted to burn and burn and burn with no consequences, without regret. I wanted my eyes to reflect dancing flames, to cry ashes and my lungs to billow smoke. I wanted to live without dying and die without living. I wanted pain and pleasure and hurt and pride. I wanted to do it. I flicked the lighter up again and the blue flame grew into burning fire as I watched the pillow smoulder. It spread to the rug and the curtains and the mattress. It burnt holes inn the wooden support beams and made the floor glow. I walked through fire and smoke and pain to the attic stairs. I lifted the latch, opened the door and climbed down, taking in, one last time, the devastation, the brilliance. I squeezed the lighter tightly in my hands. Tears from the smoke ran down my cheeks and my coughs were so strong, they made my whole body shake. I lowered the door, closing out the fire and burning #life. The landing was tranquil, no sound or movement, only the acrid smell of smoke twisting through the hallways, floating through walls and ceilings and doors. I was alive. My heart still pumped in my chest. But I was dead inside except for the compelling flames raging within, just fighting to get out, to be free. They were getting more and more powerful, claiming more and more of me with every dangerous step I took. I was only a matter of steps away from letting the flames rule me, command my every movement, decide my every action, every word. Until they let me wander and spread and grow as quickly and impenetrably as the fire itself. I stood as the house melted and crumbled around me, reduced to ashes scattered beneath my feet. I kicked the remains of my #life away, memories and experiences blowing in the wind. It felt like I was being reborn out of the fire, the flames and the ash, I rose again.

Great Heights My feet hit the deck hard. Every single time Arrow had told me never to land on my feet after jumping from great heights, flashed through my mind as I gave way to the burning pain in my ankles and sat down. I didn't have time for this. I had to keep moving. I looked up at the window ledge, but the darkness of the building merged in with the night sky, making it almost impossible to make out. I took deep breaths, long and ragged, through gritted teeth. I couldn't afford to lose all this time, but the pain gnawed into my bones. I bit my lip so hard I drew blood. I heard shuffling and flinched as I tried to move. I couldn't see what it was. I couldn't move. The pain managed to deafen and blind me effortlessly. I had jarred both my legs. I thought of Arrow and Caine and Leah. I had to carry on. I had to get up. I didn't have a choice. Move or be moved. End of.

Scars Why does it matter if I have scars on my body? Why does it matter if I refuse to hide my scars in shame? Why does it matter to you? It's my #life. I am who I am. My scars complete me, they make me who I am. They remind me not of why I did it, but of the fact that whatever it was - I survived it. I'm sorry this isn't acceptable. I'm sorry this doesn't fit your idea of 'okay' or 'normal'. I'm sorry I'm just not sorry. Not at all. Next time I carve into myself and drain the memories out of my veins, maybe I'll remember what you said to me, the comments you made. Maybe I'll finally cut deeper next time. Maybe I'll finally rid you from my heart, from my blood and bones. Maybe I'll finally remember how little I really care.