The scars tell you how many lives I’ve lived,
how many shadows haunted and laughed at me,
whispering the lies of hell in my ear.
The scars tell how many times I’ve bleed,
for your damn soul, when I know to hate you.
yet I love.
So I welcome you to look and trace and marvel at my
wisdom,
my sins are told, written upon my skin.
If they should heal and be mended,
I cut another on top, and wait for
another
scar to form.
To take its place,
to take its life.
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Submission Name: Scars
