The scars on me tell me it was all real.

From the one of the worst days of my life on my right hand all the way to the scars on my legs that came alog after.

I'm marked for life, etched into stone.

I'll grow and change and the sun will rise once again as the scars stay with me yet, fade ever fade so subtly.

Each one from the depths of my soul to my skin are my souvenoirs from all the bricks life has thrown at me. Invisible and in sight my scars are the reminders of my past and how strong I truly am. I didn't collapse. I was injured and kept going even when everything seemed doomed.

I look at the mirror and I'm aghast. I'm such a stranger to myself yet, I'm the most familiar face in the room. My past is something I wear on my skin. My own personal acquired tattoos. As I shed a tear a scar is left but, I wipe my tear away and rise with the sun.