Before

In the shower when the water is hot and my skin is red I can see the scars Still see them Even after years Even after rubbing oil on them for days, months in a row The scars were once organized But that was in the beginning Before I started running out of space And so I would fill in any gaps and go as high as I dared And eventually moved to the other ankle I remember being reluctant to move onto the right side But I did Next to the scars is a mark on my skin that I've always had I don't know what it means, the mark But the scars make me remember things Things I wish to forget That I have moved past But still, they come back Visions of self-destruction fill my mind I think that runs in the family, the self-destruction And I still show signs of it But back then I would hurt myself because I was angry Punish myself for every mistake Every reason I could find It was wrong and even as I did it I knew I shouldn't I knew I was allowing something evil to enter my mind and control my thoughts, my actions I see myself crying in front of her Over and over Uncontrollable I hated it, the fact that I was crying But I couldn't help it And as I cried I grew more frustrated with myself Which only made me cry more And I would go home and hurt myself for being an emotional person Because I thought I was weak I've learned that it in fact makes me stronger than many others Wish I'd known that back then Before I left scars on my body, a temple Marks that may never go away. Will I ever be allowed to forget? My friend touches her fingers to the iced window They trace downward Creating a pattern in the ice Cracks Scars It is a beautiful, graceful motion And I watch her, wishing I could take a picture But I keep watching until she finishes And the marks she left will go away Because the window will soon ice over again But they will forever remain in my memory Her beauty Her elegance I wish I had seen these things before But maybe it was meant to be this way Maybe I learned in the right timing To take time to notice and appreciate the trivial, beautiful things Because the world is full of them And that includes me So, eventually The scars won't matter anymore They are a part of who I am, yes But they will be a reminder Never to go back to that place I once was