Fascinating, isn’t it
How we damage ourselves
Yet our bodies renew, replace fibres
Still functional but not the same as before
Perhaps to remind us that we are not indestructible

I have scars

A perfectly distributed one along my spine
Reminds me of the swing my grandpa built,
And how I fell from it on the concrete the day he was buried.
He is gone, but the scar that I got from the swing he built, it is not.

One on my arm, hidden beneath a tattoo,
A reminder, that my cat Molly does not like vacuums.
She only had to let me know this once,
But I remember it always.

My left leg depicts very faintly what was once the topic on every passer-by’s lips
‘She was in a motorbike accident’.
But you see; now I know that braking on a loose patch of gravel will in fact, not slow you down,
But have quite the opposite effect.
I don’t know much about physics, but I know this.

Both of my thighs, once sliced open just like a knife to flesh
As ****** up as I was, the alcohol wouldn’t numb this one,
Throbbing, burning, gushing blood as I swam for eternity back to shore
But I still remember the view of the sunrise from that rock, the perfect front row seat
I also still remember that rock, and it’s perfectly jagged edges.

On my wrist, a small bump
Riding waves is fun but I now always keep in mind that we share our ocean,
I’m sure my jelly-fish encounter was as unpleasant for him as it was for me,
And despite being wrapped in foam from my neck to my ankles,
He sure was tactical, and I live to tell his tale

I have scars

But some of them you can’t see
All of them have a story,
A lesson,
A memory.
All of them are me.