Scarred But Not Barred

I have scars, scars that I doubt anyone else will accept. For fear of reject, I hide behind them and l have become subject to my loneliness. They are emotional and physical. However, they are not whimsical.

I have turned into a bitter being, one who’s humanity is ripping at the seams. One who requires external validation, one who habours strain worth an entire nation.

I feel like a stranger amongst my own, like a light that was dimmed and never again shone.

I have changed and evolved, I continuously alter because I have not resolved. To live as deemed fit for me, I live as seems right to me.

I want to no longer feel bound, I want to be able to heed a sound. To follow it to my desired extremity, without being judged as a useless entity.

Indeed I am scarred, but believe me, I am not barred.


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