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
Copyright © Liz Fisher | Year Posted 2018
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