My Dearest Scars

You were an uninvited guest,
but you made a home in my skin.
A silent story of a battle that found me.

First, you were nothing but pain:
the surgeon’s cut, the chemo’s fever,
a landscape of loss drawn on my body.

But now?
You’re the measure of
How I refused to disappear.

Every mark is a line in my history…
I bled, but I didn’t end.
I ached, but I outlasted the pain.

People say wounds fade.
But you are not a wound anymore.
You are the receipt for my survival,
proof that when my body was under siege,
I never surrendered.

So I trace your lines now
with something like pride,
knowing that…
If this was the price of my life,
Then you are the gold
That was left in my hands.

By: Mutshidzi

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