Sometimes
They stand out
Across her arms.
Thin white lines along the skin.
Left by the broken version
Of the girl you see now.
On those days,
She worries they'll see
The truth behind her past.
How she broke
Beneath every crumble;
See her strength is a lie.
She'll stare at the scars
And wonder
What made her do it?
Ask herself if it was worth it.
Scars are pretty battle wounds,
But these?
They're a feud with herself.
Is that really a battle wound
She wants to show the world?
That while others fought giants
She was fighting herself?
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