Scars

I’m sick and tired…..

Of people staring at me as if I have a red stain on my white shirt and not in my eye in respect

But what can you expect when you have visible scars?

When the first thing people do among first glance…is stare at your forehead…

My first impression is to question your maturity,

but what gives me the authority to not act normally

When what is just a blemish is now my biggest insecurity.

Oh how I wish these were just hidden in obscurity

And I can erase that accident and the effects of it away from me



But….more than ever I realize that now….these scars…..are part of my identity

A visual testimony...

Of strength

Of God working to prove..that I am not done yet….

So….continue to stare….continue to question

Yea….to me it is more of a personal transgression

But your minute obsession and facial expression as you try to process the congestion of marks on my skull….flatters me

Because what you may consider as an imperfection

I see….as a blessing