Saturday, September 14, 2013

i stopped wearing long sleeves sophomore year of high school- what was the point?
the gossips had already circled [vulturous girls].
my scars were candy apple red.
everyone noticed.

i stopped hiding my forearm freshman year of college- what was the point?
proud of my handiwork, victorious and apathetic. 
my scars were bruise blue.
everyone noticed.

i forgot them senior year of college- what was the point?
i had grown and walked with long green legs, bamboo rods, new trees.
maybe my skin had grown strong and mottled like bark, camouflaged by
years of 
fucking trying
my scars are ivory tusk white now.

but last Wednesday 
Doctor Solomon spoke to my wrists,
not my face and
i saw myself through someone else's eyes 
again
and realized:

after all these years,
it's still the first thing they notice.



b.l & e.k

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