We all have scars. Though most do not conjure welcome memories, scars are an important part of our lives—both physically and metaphorically. Scars reveal our vulnerability and human frailty, but also represent our resilience and toughness. Write about a scar you have, how you got it, and what it means to you.
Raised white line, you remind me of days gone by and lovers lost. He played games with me, so I played noughts and crosses on my arm with a razor blade. Dragging and wiping, a process of mutilation and celebration all at once. I scarred myself to remind me of the mistakes that I made with you, to remind myself not to repeat these mistakes with future lovers (I was certain that there would be other lovers after you, despite my heartbreak). I scarred myself to make you realise what you’d done to me, to shock you, but in turn it actually gave confirmation that you’d made the right decision to leave me. Forever imprinted, it is yours, it belongs to you, I wear it with pride. I look at it every day, and remember the ways in which you killed me with your words, those cruel words that still ring true today. You scarred me with your words, I scarred myself with a kitchen knife, you scarred me with your empty promises, I scarred myself with a lighter burn. We’re essentially the same, horrible human beings: at least one thing connects us to this day– we scar people with ease and assumed clarity of thought.