Scars

I’ll show you my scars if you show me yours. Sike, I’ll show you mine without the thought of looking at yours. My scars tell the story of heartache to triumph.

My scars speak to me louder than the person in front of me. My scars are what make me beautiful. How dare you think I need to see yours in order to share mine.

My scars tell me there has been healing in places I thought were impossible. My scars are raised above my skin and my heart, the trail where you could run your fingers back to the start.

Would you rather see where my scars end or begin? Either choice you’ll see the beauty that lies within.

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