A Piece of Heaven (part 1)
The scars cover my torso, arms and back. Thin white lines etched into tanned skin. They mark my past. The brutal beatings, depression, cutting, all of it, a part of me. I sit back, remembering each night, tending the fresh wounds after she had fallen asleep. Wincing at the memories, I am in my big oak tree in the park. It’s midnight and the full moon sits over my head. I jump down and walk over to one of the swings, sitting there I sing to myself.
“I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut. My weakness is that I care too much, and my scars remind me that the past is real. I tear my heart open just to feel-“
I am stopped by foot steps behind me. I jump up and turn quickly preparing to run.
For a minute I am glad I work so hard to have my lean body and strong muscles,
“You shouldn’t be here,” says the person in the shadows stepping out.
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