Scars Show Knowledge.

The scars that cover me,
are the proof of pain.
They are the story of my past,
The plot of my present
and hints of my future
They alone are my knowledge.

The pink lines,
criss-crossed every which way,
are my man-made tattoos,
of damaged tissue.
They are what remind me of who I am,
They alone are my touchstones.

The fresh scabs,
The new blood,
all keep me alive,
yet kill me deep inside.
The knowledge and misery I get from them,
keep me going,