• Every mark tells a story;
    A carving, a tattoo, even a scar.
    Look at my heart, marred and broken.
    Look at my soul, shattered completely.
    Broken inside and out...
    Look at my skin, bruised and scarred.
    There is a story in every scar here,
    Together they tell the tale of my life.
    You can see how I grew up,
    And what made me become me.
    I look in the mirror
    At the scars that never seem to end.
    All I can feel is sadness.
    Sadness, loneliness, fear, and pain
    All wrapped up into one.
    Stories lying in the scars,
    Stretching and crisscrossing everywhere.
    There was so much pain and suffering,
    And that over beaten question:
    Why me?
    I didn't ask for these scars,
    But when I listen to the stories lying in the scars
    I realize that these scars, these marks left behind,
    Help make me who I am today.
    Every scar helps piece together that puzzle named Me.
    There are stories lying in these scars.
    It's the story of my life,
    It's what makes me who I am today.
    I learned and grew,
    Adding another scar, another story, every now and then.
    Looking over myself in the mirror,
    I don't see a horrible mar in my skin.
    It's not an un-removable flaw to gawk at.
    No, it's a mark of beauty.
    A beautiful tale, woven and spun with a few bumps along the way.
    There are stories lying in every scar,
    Scattered endlessly upon an ever changing canvas.
    Can you try and tell the tale of some one's life?
    It's kind of easy if you can read the stories lying in the scars.
    -Britny