Scars
I am my scars
They paint my body, and my heart
A story for the reader
If they can see it
The one on my wrist from petting a cat
Visiting a shelter, holding death
I went despite my allergies
I didn't mind that the scratch went deep
A swollen hand was a small price to pay
Tiny constellations across my left hand
I slipped and fell on ice
Too busy going Somewhere to bother with care
They serve as a reminder, not a lesson
I'm too clumsy, too focused on my destination
To bother if I get there in one piece
A scratch in my eyebrow
Hidden by hair
My beautiful kitten thought my head
Was covered in string
A delightful and interesting new toy
She almost took my eye out
I didn't mind
Then the invisible scars
The ones on my heart
The tissue that acts as walls to the unworthy
My trust issues, hiding that I am soft,
Breakable
One from middle school
All the friends who wanted help
Math, Science, English
But were always unavailable to go to the movies
Except without me
Others, smaller and deeper, from loss
Priscilla, beauty even without hair
Such a fighter she was,
Only knocked out in the third round.
Breast cancer never fought fair
A great grandmother I never got to know
Loved and treasured, O the stories they tell
Of a soft heart and a hard head
A card player, a mother, a friend
Lost before she even died
Taken by Alzheimer’s, the enemy within
My scars are beauty
My story in life
The hidden heartbreak building a wall
The trips and falls from fast moving feet
Trying to follow a mind to its dream
My scars define me, shape me, are me
A life laid out across my body
I wouldn’t have it any other way
They make me a living artwork,
Forever changing