To some, an accessory might be a scarf,
A ring,
A purse,
Or a hairband.
To me it's something deeper.
Something so deep that it goes through my skin,
Into my soul itself.
Scars.
The wounds I wear,
Like you would wear a medal,
A necklace,
Or a bracelet.
My silky lace trails all over my body,
Cacooning me in.
Some peek through,
But most stay hidden,
Deep under the flesh.
And guess what?
I think mine are prettier than yours.
