Scars

Scars.

 

I want to talk about the scars

I want to talk about the unhinged stories behind them

The one we see, and yet do not talk about

The ones we’ve learnt to keep behind dark walls of a past we’ve never fully healed from.

 

I want to talk about the pain

The pain hidden behind the smiles

The one people don’t really see

The one we trained ourselves to hide until it became a part of us

The one we got used to.

 

I want to talk about the scars

The marks that time never washed away

The one we see and call ‘a stage of growth’

The one we probably had to brainwash ourselves to believe.

 

I want to talk about the tears

The salty water that trickles across the cheek

The one evidence of our pain

 

I want to talk about the day

The one we have learned to live by

Daily.

 

I want to talk about the scars

The scars of the heart

The one that even time has chosen to freeze.

 

I want to talk about freedom

We thought we were free

We thought we weren’t caged

And yet, the caged bird sings

Of freedom we know not

A fairytale well served.

 

The truth is:

We’re caged

Caged inside

Locked up with a padlock like grief.

 

We yearn to speak

To free ourselves from this burden

But

After all,

We are battered

After all,

We are bruised

After all,

We are scarred.