SCARRED
Scars…
On my chest, from a hot water burn that made me scream and cry. Biting down on my lower lip to hush my deafening wails wasn’t as easy as it sounds.
On my knees, from when that careless biker drove into me.
“Ha! Oga, you wan born person pikin?!” I heard people yell in my defence. Yet, no one offered to at least rinse my bruises.
On my right foot, from the day a rusted nail tore through my soft, eight years young skin.
I should’ve listened sooner when Mom sounded warnings to stop walking barefooted.
Scars…
On my neck, from when my father’s brother bit me… deep.
He hushed my cries in the claim that they were only love bites.
In my heart, from when I thought I was in love with you, and you with me. My bad, I hadn’t understood what love is.
In my mind, from the things I’ve seen, and heard, and done; especially when I didn’t want to. All because I was once too weak to resist coercion.
Scars…
Once, fresh injuries to my innocent mind.
Now healed, but never forgotten
These scars have made me who I am
So this day, and every other day, I will wear them with pride.
I promise you; I will.
