April 24, 2010
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They are tales in my skin, that can bring up a story anywhere.
Bring back a smell, place, time.
Its as my skin cradels my scars.
There a scrapbook of what could've been.
They add to painting of who I am today.
If only the heart were more delecate.
Willing to recall whats its endured by branding my weak tissues so memories can race back.
It's easy to forget what doesn't show, but stronger to embrace what is visibe.

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