Scars

Proud muscle

Battered and bruised

A child, proud of strength

And power

That came with skinned knees and bruised shins

Launching –

Into flight

Or fury

To all who opposed

Her fierce will

 

But, they admonished

If you have scars

No one will marry you

Unattractive knees

Belied her fate

 

Slowly, then

Slowly,

She grew less fierce,

Less furious

Less frenzied

[– in all things, great and small]

 

And they were happy

So happy

Never realizing they

Created

Far deeper

Scars

[of their own]

Photo Credit: d e a r d i a r y Flickr via Compfight cc

Carly Zee

Carly Zee is a poet and writer and lover of the finer things in life — like good wines, dark chocolate, and erotica. She finds myself seeking pleasure over reason on far too many occasions, and will, in all likelihood, continue to do so. To come along for the ride, you can connect with Carly through https://carlyzee.wordpress.com/

Written by 

Carly Zee is a poet and writer and lover of the finer things in life — like good wines, dark chocolate, and erotica. She finds myself seeking pleasure over reason on far too many occasions, and will, in all likelihood, continue to do so. To come along for the ride, you can connect with Carly through https://carlyzee.wordpress.com/

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