My body…
As i lay i count the amount of scars on my body. My broken cut ridden scarred body…
I start counting, and only count what is still visible after months to years of time for the wounds to heal. My scars all have a story of their own, and all signify a problem, feeling of hopelessness and lost cause, emotionless, a perfect day in hiding.
I count 10…54…71… 84 well that’s it for those that are visible in my shorts and cut off T-shirt. Most of them aren’t visible and overlap so it’s impossible to get an accurate count of them the ones that i have hidden on my thighs. So, i count… 12…51…122…212, and a 3 inch patch which is heavily covered and recovered with cuts in all different directions on my right thigh. On the left thigh besides noticeable cuts is a scar from a few cuts that spell out “FML” Â and indeed with that scar my life is…
Scars on the outside of that region are not noticed from even a short distance by most, but the ones scarred spelling is surely noticeable to any who see it. Â A girlfriend? unlikely i’ll keep one of those if they see that, and worse do you hide it from them? No…you hide it from everyone at all costs, and live alone your life however long that may be even if it’s only a matter of time until you succumb to life– a dauntless task.