Thursday, November 17, 2011


Scars are something we all bear.
Some of them show on your skin, some on the wrinkles on your face, some by the way your voice changes tone when a picture flashes in your head.
We all bear scars.
Scars on a man make him attractive to a woman (or so I've read), scars in a man make him harder.
When you get cut bad enough, you bleed. It heals and it leaves a scar.
The skin on a scar is thicker and tougher than the one around it. But if you poke it with something sharp, you'll realise the skin below it is actually softer than the one under normal skin.
In fact, the parts that do get scarred are the ones that are soft. They need to be made tougher. A scar does that just fine.

You can wear your scars with pride or feel ashamed of them. Whatever you do, you can not hide them. Not from the world and not from yourself.

I wear my scars with hope.

A hope that one day they will heal completely. Even if they don't, I hope the skin around them will one day wrinkle enough so I can't find them till I look for them, and people won't care to look for them in all those lines.

Hope that one day I may be scarred enough to not care about any of them.

But most of all, I wear my scars reassured.
Reassured by the fact that even if the part of me that's scarred today, gets scarred again, the scar will change
but won't be new.
I'll know what to do.
I'll know I should hope.
So go ahead, poke.


  1. Wow! You were a poet and we didn't even know it!?! ;)

  2. wow...well written...its like an ensemble of thoughts on a topic lending it a meaning yet making the reader shaky...