Scarred

I had three.
One on my chest where they cut my heart out and replayed it with another one from some unfortunate soul.
One that ran along my right thigh. It was a whole foot long and would always remind me of the metal that replaced my femur bone.
And one ran across the bridge of my nose and across my cheek where it dramatically ended at the height of my cheek bone.

I was scarred, never to be perfect again.
Until two boys walked into my life. One dangerous and one gentle. My scarred heart needed both but I could only keep one.