Scars

I hadn't noticed you in a while, it was kind of like running into an ex.

The memory fled back and my smile slowly drifted.

My eyes abseiling to my old work station. 

I was an artist, I tell you. No work was the same and no one could work with such bold reds.

Like me. 

I used to be a sad girl, The tears never left me. But one day I saw that face, one with hope and serenity. 

I had heard those words before in a group for children like me. We all had the same scars, albeit mentally. I stopped going when they mentioned God, but I think God sent me an angel. 

 

 

The first day I met him one of the first thing he had said had been talking about hating me. I lifted my curtain to show him he hated me. His face screamed he fucked up, he did. His face had given it away that he had never destroyed his chances like that before. I never did it again, I was scared he'd walk away before he was ever mine. 

 

3 months later and I glance down, I notice them. They're sitting there... Mocking me with past decisions. Mocking me in no way a human ever could. I hate them. Why do young girls like to sexualities them? They're not beautiful, they are a mistake. The only mistake that I wish I had never ever had happen to me. 

 

He rubs my thighs and he knows they're there. He smiles when I utter, "You're my favourite" I've never noticed before but... He saved me. All he had to do was accept me. That was it. That's all I ever needed.  here...