We all have marks that will not fade, despite the Neosporin we so generously glob into the cracks and creases, and despite the many bandages that hide our sins and our pasts-- the stains that once tried to prove to us that we were unworthy. We all have places that are sore to the touch, and shadows underneath our eyes that tell the stories of the times when there was no sun to warm us up, to fade away the demons of the darkness. You, and you, and you a thousand times you have molded me. Shaped my mind into a place where i must tread with careful steps, afraid to step on an old bruise or wake the angry voices and unlock the shadows. But i am breaking free. I am being brave and loving myself. If i am worthless as you have told me, so many times, to you-- then i can be so many times more worthwhile to me. I am putting down the weapons i clung onto for so long, not knowing i was going into battle with myself and causing wounds which even the slightest brush of someone else's gentle, loving fingers could not heal. I was turning to the pain of myself, and wondering why i was becoming pinpointed to so many labels while screaming out that that was not me, and binding myself ever further into them. So i finally stopped. And you, and you, and you who no longer know me, cannot harm me any more. I have built a shell of love, my own, because i am my own heroine, my own heroin, and my own Neosporin. and no longer will i display my weakness for sale, like a prostitute on the corner, begging for a quick fix. I am strong. and i am finally free. i don't care anymore.
But even as i know that. there will always be those nights. When even my own salve won't fix the throbbing of those wounds. because gauze has to be removed to be changed and when the pain of myself is revealed again, i will always remember. And i will always be sore. And though, i may heal myself, you can rest easy knowing your mark has been made. is your legacy one you're proud of i wonder, as i change my bandages, and feel the waves rock me once more away.
