Brought up in pain,
the blisters in her body are like carved inscriptions,
bold and bare.
An evidence of what used to be.

She was always sucidal and scared,
scared of living and dying in pain.
She felt it was better to die peacefully,
not from beating and battering.

Her good Samaritan came just like
an angel from a dream.
She released her from her den
and made her a new person.

Now she is as beautiful like the flowers,
her blisters are no longer scary,
but a reminder of a war she fought and won.
Even flowers have stripes,her stripes are what make her beautiful.

© Althea