My Scar

By: Lydia Crow

 

I don’t tell people
now.

It’s not that I want to hear
the sick jokes,
but I hate the embarrassed
sideways look
when someone remembers you.

They don’t know you,
they only know
the scar you left.
Their cautious pity
tears my skin as you did.

I keep it hidden now,
my scar.

It is not shame
I feel.
I just refuse
to live as your victim
throughout my life.

You made me stronger.
I will never thank you,
but I can walk where
others dare not tread. They flinch
where I walk unfazed.

It is my strength,
my scar.

You will have
nothing.
No part of it. You are
nothing.

My personal triumph,
my scar.

I don’t tell people.
Not any more.

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