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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