Scars Of My Soul

You wrote me in scars. You’ve made me like this. You tell me I’m not the same as my old self— That I am something you pay for. Am I something to be paid for? I am torn apart by the way you treat me. I am crushed by the comments you pass. Am I not good enough? I’m weighed down By your words. You’ve made me like shattered glass— With sharp edges cutting away myself. Every piece reflects a broken part That I’ve lost. Do you see the cracks you’ve left me with, Or is it still my fault? I’m more than what you’ve taken, More than what you break. Now I gather the pieces— My strength revives, For I deserve someone better.