Scars
The marks on our body tell of stories that are surrounded with darkness.
When someone asks me about my scars
I tell them they’re from fights
people gaze at me in wonder and ask
what are their stories?
I point to the scars on my left wrist and say
I was bullied
I was hated
I wasn’t loved
Noone cared for me.
On my right wrist I point and say
I had no more room on my left
the hate grew stronger
it led me to darkness
to be who I am today.
I once loved to be alive
to see the world around me
then reality set in
and darkness became my friend.
When someone asks me of my future
I smile and say
my future is within a box
buried deep in the ground.
(2013)
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