Scars

I love my eyes
I love my freckles and my nose
I love that I have freckles on my chest.
I have a scar on my hand from a hanger issue
Sore shoulders from trying my hardest at swim but never really succeeding.
A crooked toe from wrestling with my sister.
A sore wrist from breaking it skateboarding.
A bumpy knuckle from skidding on the pavement from trying to go off the ramp.
A hanger fight with my sister

But the most gruesome scars are the ones on my arms and my leg . .. and those are the most blatant banners of my trials and tribulations.
Screaming in brown and red, there is no escaping them. Everyone sees them.
I cant hide them . do I want to hide them?
They are my battle wounds, I survived.
I’m a survivor. . . and I can survive anything. Who knew someone could live without their heart.