I once despise the scars I engraved on my skin. I loathed every single line tainted the paleness of my skin. I cried it over a million times for I can't conceal the scars only to glare myself with a profound contempt for my frailty. I deflect as my runaway defense for I was too ashamed to talk about my fragility and it became a habit. A bad old habit. As I get accustomed with the battles I obliviously entice, I contemplate wearing the scars like a badge of a soldier who came out of a battlefield scathed but breathing just fine.
People and their gutting stares are nonsensical compared to the scars I am are wearing because that's how I won. I reign the life I fought so hard to live and none of people's words can topple me down because my scars are my strength. My power. My crown.

© Cienn