My body is like the surface of Luna—
Pelted and dotted by visible
Traumas and sins.
Lesion.
I had let them define me.
Those clumps of fiber that
Formed from wear and tear.
Blood.
They disgusted me—crimson veins
Spread across my breast, overtaking
It like roots. Gripping me tightly.
Pus.
He called them keloids—
“Nothing to be ashamed of.”
But I would have preferred hemorrhoids.
Pain.
A thousand stings pierced
My skin, melting
With a milky fire.
Screaming.
Stygian frost coated
My epidermis, wet flames
Sought to uproot
Anguish.
Beams of light that
Snapped and severed.
All in vein.
Cleansed.
I scratched, popped, snatched away
The healing process and rob my body
Of its regeneration. Kept at bay.
Scab.
Layers upon layers of tissue overlap as
my infected skin takes a new
Shape. A horrible
Scar.
Shame washed over me
Refusing to bare my heart to others,
Just as I could not bear the unsightly.
Tissue.
Bearing a shameful countenance for years.
My scars spoke in a spiteful tongue.
Saying,
They who gaze upon your breast
See their eyes fill with
Disdain, dejection, disgust.
You are forever marked—
Your fetid flesh betrays you and
Makes the unseen seen.
Memories
Loathed. In time, My body
Grew. I outgrew those chains of shame
Eroding the chrysalis to a finality.
Healed, I bare myself to—
Love touches my chest,
Kissing it with gentle acceptance and dignity.
Melting my shackles and burning the roots.
—You.
Your eyes fill with tenderness,
Loving the unlovable; admiring the ugly.
You witnessed my metamorphosis.
To love.
You trace your fingers across my bloody craters,
Kissing the texture. Dried.
The gruesome words now ring hollow. Changed.
… [She] who gazes upon your breast
See [her] eyes fill with
[Wonder, love, admiration]
You are forever marked,
Your [fortified] flesh, [upholds you] and
Makes [a collection of artful curves].
I lay bare a gruesome cicatrice of
my past, hidden memories uncovered.
Not for others, but for myself.
To the world.
I let them be a part of me.
A mosaic of Braille that tells
the history of my body.
My scars reach finality.
They take a perfect shape.
Their luster shines brighter than before.
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