My sins are committed.
This must be my scarlet letter.
Worn underneath my clothes.  

Is this my punishment?
My brain knows better,
and my heart doesn’t even know.

The parts of me I treasured are gone,
My skin now marked with pox and cuts.
Who would ever want damaged goods?

Let me still bear the shame,
Embarrassed to the highest degree.
Keep me a wretched mess.
I won’t be beautiful again.

Leave at least one scar I pray,
This way I’ll never forget.
The sins I committed,
and the deeds that led me here today.