On my ribs they stay,

Permanently marked,

A reminder to my heart.

Sixteen stitches, black and beautiful,

Surrounded by words above and below.

Words that gave me strength,

To look forward and try to change.

It takes sixteen stitches,

And a few words,

To remember my fight,

A reminder that I will be alright.

A mark I will never forget,

The words that forever rumble in my head.

Sixteen stitches to close a wound,

That will never fully heal,

But bandaged by the words,

That have empowered me to try.