1 . When I was born, life
cut the cord that connected me
to my mother. There's still a
tiny hole
in my stomach.

2. There's this faint, jagged line
between my eyebrows.
I have no idea
where it came from.

3. Three dark parallel lines
run down my ankle,
a reminder
of friendship
and barbed wire.

4. The skin on my hands, feet, forearms and shins
is decorated in tiny white flecks,
like a snowfall.
They mark me as a warrior.

5. The skin on my knuckles
is just a bit thicker, just a bit more silvery,
younger than the rest of my skin.
That marks me as an idiot.

6. Nine pale parallel lines
run across the inside of my forearm,
a reminder
of solitude
and razors.

7. There's a puckered, jagged line
on my hipbone.
I know exactly
where it came from.

8. When I was fourteen, death
cut the cord that connected me
to my friend. There's still a
gaping hole
in my stomach.