That cut that runs along

my wrist; it has a story

to tell.



That mark that I have on

my waist; it has a history

that scares me.



That blemish that covers

my collarbone; it makes

my soul cold.



And all the scars on

my body, refuse to fade

just like those memories.



The faces of those monsters,

what they did to me,

still haunts me.



These scars never fail in

reminding me of the horror

behind them.