I hope these scars don’t mark me as a beast .I feel ugly .When you look at me.What do you see?When you stop and stare.What’s running through your head as I quickly tug on the cuffs of my shirt.I feel your eyes running up my  arms. Rumaging through my sorted past looking to quell your curiosity. Did you find it ?The answers you wanted.The truth I feel naked like you can see past this fisade.Like its written on my face like the fabric I weaved around myself is coming undone and that brokenness is seering through my eyes.And unsure what to do I walk ever so calmy away so I can keep any who haven’t uncovered me away for the truth away from me .

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