Scarred

The scars carry importance, they remind you of the time when you were exhausted,

When you were tired,

When your patience was tried,

When you were minutes or even seconds away from giving up,

A scar doesn’t hurt, does it?

Pressed against it, Was another, a fresh one,

Doesn’t hurt, does it?

Broken multiple times, I found peace over the last few matches I could enjoy,

Insensitivity had crossed its limits,

As I stopped resisting, I found a beautiful way to deal with it,

I asked myself “Doesn’t hurt, does it?”

This time, I smiled,

Smiled my way through,

Everyone is scarred, they said,

Little did they know that few signed up for it!

Was I one of them? Or was I chosen to be one of them?

As I write a beloved story, I ask myself “Doesn’t hurt, does it?”

.