She wore her scars
Like badges, they
Gleamed against her
Skin like armor she
Never thought she'll
Need, with a pencil in
Her hand feeling as if
She had been holding a
Sword, scratching against
The surface of each word
Being struck against her
Knowing the battle would
Be won only by her with
Fierce determination and
Fire in her veins creating
Defenses greater than empty
Words that felt like rocks
Being hurled at her.