Skin Deep

A bloody gouge across my ring finger
coagulated and dark by the end of the fray

Tiny teeth marks amidst pink raised skin
Ragged red streaks where fingernails have strayed

The physical signs of one morning of motherhood

These are nothing of the mental anguish,
the emotional toll
the trials and tribulations
of getting out of bed and out the door

Today there are scars to show
for all the toil
Outward reminders
of what is always underneath

Advertisements

Scars as Beauty

 

“On the girl’s brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.

In a few breaths’ time I will speak some sad words to you. But you must hear them the same way we have agreed to see scars now. Sad words are just another beauty. A sad story means, this storyteller is alive. The next thing you know, something fine will happen to her, something marvelous, and then she will turn around and smile.”

– from Little Bee by Chris Cleave

 

%d bloggers like this: