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My Scars
My scars may not show.
They may not be on the skin,
But the heart has not healed.
It still bleeds
From the sharp words,
From the shattered glass,
From the broken promises.
As my tears well up,
They shine like diamonds.
They fall
And they break,
They tear,
They scar
Like my heart.
My scars aren’t on skin,
On arms,
On wrists,
On legs.
They are on my heart.
They make me strong.
They make me see,
Not everyone shows their
Scars.
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