Her fingers lightly trace along the jagged scars along her skin.
Invisible to the naked eyes that look upon her.
A testament to the wars that she has waged herself and the ones that have been waged against her.
A reminder of the strength she tends to forget about frequently.
Those scars show a map of heartbreak, self hatred, doubtfulness, resentment, and so much more.
Endless amounts that as her fingers brush along skin that seems to have no ends of bumps, makes her wonder if she has any room left for more.
The feeling of defeat is suffocating as she realizes that no part of her skin will ever be scar free.
YOU ARE READING
Chaotically Organized
PoetryWelcome to my chaotic mind, expressed in free verse poetry that just down right sucks, however it is the process of expression and finding myself. From healing, to pain, to falling down again, to hoping to find myself. Chaotically organized and sh...
