Scars

My story can be told
by the seams
scar tissue
wrapped around both wrists.
The first time
I could find no release
silent screams
tearing from a broken body.
It was easier to bleed
than give voice to the fear
the cause
the betrayal.
It became second nature
pain
alleviated by blood
dripping
scoring the floor beneath.
One day I will go to far.
What will they think
peering into this closet
a nest of rags
broken toys
a childhood long forgotten.
To find the blades I pilfered
some rusted through.
Each tells a tale
of pain
fear
abuse
eyes wide open
everyone else blinded
what does a girl do?
Not this time
my heart still beats on.
My anguish
grey mimosa
none shall see
the tears that I weep.
November 15/18