Battle Scars

September 11, 2012
By Anonymous

Step closer, my child, for I have something to tell,
And you would do well to heed me.
The story of a girl, young, so na?ve,
Who discovered what it was like to fall.
No, no, my dear, her heart wasn’t caught.
Not that sort of fall at all.
She trusted, you see, all those around
And let herself be deceived.
With long flowing hair and a carefree glide,
She streamed through serious faces.
A perpetual grin, a contented sight:
Never once falling prey.
Not a person knew the noxious cloud
That fogged her every conscious moment
No one could see or hear the screams that boiled up inside.
She was trapped, my dear,
Stuck like a fish in a net.
No way out, it seemed.
Are you listening now?
She made a dreadful discovery:
The cool comforting slice of a blade,
The bright agony of the burn.
They cleared the poison cloud.
So with grim determination, she surged ahead;
Decorated her body with scars.
No one saw her battle marks.
Just as no one had heard her pleas for help.
Are you listening now?
Now, my child, you must remember the line.
The line you must never cross.
This line, you see, is the great chasm.
The chasm between a horrid scar…
And immense, unfixable damage.
She took it too far, I’m afraid.
She crossed the uncrossable line.
Now they all murmur that they didn’t see it coming.
The scars saw it.
The cuts saw it.
The burns saw it.
But she hid them all away.
Are you listening now?
She didn’t want to be saved.

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