Sometimes you gotta interpret the poetry: Everybody has scars

Ever read a poem and think...Huh, what?  Yeah, me too. So with a shameless plug for a poem I wrote...is a blog written and inspired from it.


 Some people have physical scars, but everyone has scars left on their hearts. Evidence of battles for acceptance, significance, truth, love, and being right. Everyone has at least one.  If we are honest, we would like to show off these scars to show the world what we have accomplished. How we got thru those fights, trials, etc.
    Others would say they prefer to hide their blemishes perhaps because they aren't proud of them. They're unsightly and the world mocks you when one is revealed. Most scars are hard to conceal. At some point, one burrows out of the hole we tried to cover it with and peeks out with a resounding, "I won't be squelched!"
     Still some scars are a beautiful reminder of having gave life to a new little being or to another person in great need.


If you are so lucky, you have scars inside and out. (Note sarcasm).
      Like the one below from a childhood accident (okay, so I stupidly listened to my brother and we were jumping from the wooden toy box to our bunk bed. I slipped and fell into a play kitchen made of metal). I think I single-handedly might have helped change toys made from metal to plastic:

And here is the poem inspired by this scar:
                                   

Scar

Scar scales the midriff.

Wiggle, Wrinkled, Worn.

Imprinting a small ditch on my belly.

A tawny worm, leeched forever on my side,

To remind me of imperfections.

Scar grips the stomach.

Tears, Tangled, Torn.

Ripping away at the soft, baby skin.

A symbol of childhood that taught me,

An early lesson of mortality.

-Dionne Adkison 

I have accepted this scar. Yes, I even have worn bikinis in public. 

But...

Then there are those emotional pockmarks that dig deep, long furrows into my head and heart. It is just harder to release these when the memory tied to them still remains. Or the words spoken still sting the self and vie for my attention. 

Some have left me hollow and to recover is to truly accept them. I just have to remember that they don't define me. 

As Jennifer Rothschild puts it, "Who you are and what you struggle with are NOT the same thing."

Through the years, many inside scars have faded or practically vanished, showing how my choice to heal is working. I guess, really, we always have a choice.

How do you handle scars? Do u have some on the outside too?