Scars
I knew he was standing there,
Looking at my body, I didn’t want him to look at me,
At my disgusting body
He walked closer to me, closer, closer he walked,
his hand reached out for my shoulder,
I stepped back, not wanting him touching my skin
He stepped forward and I stepped back
This game repeated until my back,
hit the cool, smooth surface of my bedroom wall
I shut my eyes, believing he wasn’t there
Wanting him gone, away from my skin
“Open your eyes”
I shook my head, I had no desire,
none to look down
“Please, open your eyes”
I felt his hand, ghosting over my skin,
Over my scars, touching, tracing my scars
“Look at you”
I opened my eyes slowly
He was smiling, why was he smiling?
“These scars, self inflicted, they made you who you are,
Look at them and see them”
I looked down, his fingers,
brushing slowly against each and every one of my scars
His touch bought tingles
I watched him touch each of my scars,
his smile, still on his face, why was he smiling?
“See these scars?”
His fingers, ghosting over my skin
over each and every scar on my body
My arms and hands, stomach and waist
“Can you see them?”
I didn’t understand, what he meant,
of course I can see all of my scars,
I was there when they happened
So I asked, what he meant when he said
He smiles, his fingers still latched onto my disgusting body
Feeling my skin,
Looking at me
“You’re beautiful”
I shook my head, disgusting, that’s what I am,
I don’t deserve his words,
So I begin to cry, his smiles falters,
Now he sees, just who I am,
I cry harder, at this thought
“Please don’t cry”
His hands now placed, softly on my skin,
His fingers, softly stroking my worn out scars,
Some old, others are new
“You’re beautiful”
He repeats this, says it again,
I just stare into his eyes,
Not believing what he is saying,
So why does he, keep on repeating?
“To me, to me, you are the most,
Beautiful person, I love you, all of you,
especially your scars, because they are beautiful too,
You, are beautiful”
Now I don’t mind, when he looks at, my body,
or at my skin and at my scars
Because I know that he loves me
All of me,
Even my scars,
My beautiful scars
Looking at my body, I didn’t want him to look at me,
At my disgusting body
He walked closer to me, closer, closer he walked,
his hand reached out for my shoulder,
I stepped back, not wanting him touching my skin
He stepped forward and I stepped back
This game repeated until my back,
hit the cool, smooth surface of my bedroom wall
I shut my eyes, believing he wasn’t there
Wanting him gone, away from my skin
“Open your eyes”
I shook my head, I had no desire,
none to look down
“Please, open your eyes”
I felt his hand, ghosting over my skin,
Over my scars, touching, tracing my scars
“Look at you”
I opened my eyes slowly
He was smiling, why was he smiling?
“These scars, self inflicted, they made you who you are,
Look at them and see them”
I looked down, his fingers,
brushing slowly against each and every one of my scars
His touch bought tingles
I watched him touch each of my scars,
his smile, still on his face, why was he smiling?
“See these scars?”
His fingers, ghosting over my skin
over each and every scar on my body
My arms and hands, stomach and waist
“Can you see them?”
I didn’t understand, what he meant,
of course I can see all of my scars,
I was there when they happened
So I asked, what he meant when he said
He smiles, his fingers still latched onto my disgusting body
Feeling my skin,
Looking at me
“You’re beautiful”
I shook my head, disgusting, that’s what I am,
I don’t deserve his words,
So I begin to cry, his smiles falters,
Now he sees, just who I am,
I cry harder, at this thought
“Please don’t cry”
His hands now placed, softly on my skin,
His fingers, softly stroking my worn out scars,
Some old, others are new
“You’re beautiful”
He repeats this, says it again,
I just stare into his eyes,
Not believing what he is saying,
So why does he, keep on repeating?
“To me, to me, you are the most,
Beautiful person, I love you, all of you,
especially your scars, because they are beautiful too,
You, are beautiful”
Now I don’t mind, when he looks at, my body,
or at my skin and at my scars
Because I know that he loves me
All of me,
Even my scars,
My beautiful scars