I have a story.
Freedom from the past
Still leaves behind these bruises on my wrists
The imprints of my falls are a reminder of the hurt
The brokenness from before ...
I try to hide the past presence of pain and suffering
Hoping to be seen as perfect and thriving
A girl with a clean story. A happy story. An easy story.
But these scars tell of my previous bondage
The deeper cuts reveal the most
And Take the longest to heal.
Plastered on bandages conceal the skin forever changed
The tissue is stiff, it must be conditioned to function with the rest
I must move slowly, cautiously to avoid ripping it open again
I must pursue Gentleness to allow the healing
Wounds become scars, over time fading, the screams of the past stifled to quiet whispers
The past hurts haunt me
Even though they are not reality
Ghost pains torment me,
I go tumbling into the darkness
Sometimes I forget my totem
And let the false inception takeover, hopeless
But then a voice calls back to me,
The still, small voice says that I am whole.
That these marks tell the story of the one who was, is, and is to come manifested in me.
Reminding me that the pains of the past will not remain there forever
But that His healing transcends time, and broken vessels are no longer severed
The scars are formed by the sacrifice of the One who redeems
The wounds of the previous life are nothing of substance
These marks are nothing but a story of redemption.