My flaws are what make me flawless
My scars are deeper than canyons
that dip in the mountains of my body;
longer than rivers
tracing themselves over my thighs, my hips, my stomach
like hieroglyphs--a world trying to interpret me
for who i once was, who I may still be,
an angry mob of red lines like questions,
"why," and "how," and "when,"
asked in anger and pity every time-
but I do not fear these marks,
ugly, jagged, covering my skin,
they remind me of who I am,
and of who I've been.
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avava
I'm Ava (that's my initials) and I've been writing poetry for a couple years. It's not usually very organized more than just raw feelings slapped onto a page. I like to think it's not bad. I tend to write about my more intense feelings, but I promise I'm not nearly as depressing as my poems make me out to be! I usually don't post things around for others to read them, so this is pretty new to me. Please treat me well!
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