The bevel of my flesh.
What makes me, me,
Is that I don't care what others see.
My simple scar.
Can easily be seen from afar.
But to me, you see
Scars are what form us
They are of course, made of us.
The collagen cut so far to make that beautiful scar
It adds to my character, my spunk, my charm
But, of course this is not all I am.
I am a daughter, sister, survivor
Yeah I knew every one was waiting for those labels.
Does it satisfy or make you think?
That perhaps you belittle too much
So for now until the social change,
I am a daughter, sister, survivor, student, female, writer...
Dark brown of my eyes and hair.
My favor for the sky.
My quirks my kinks.
The power in which I think.
Stitch by stitch
My body was fixed
My favorite songs I love to mix.
Oh, I so very much love books!
Literature, plays, theater, movies, Oh! how I am so hooked.
Me is me
But the catch is I am not what you see.
This is very ok with me.
I am who I am and that is who I intend to be.