Poetry
I realize now all the slashes
I dug deeply into my flesh
The scars that I so smugly savored...
My victorious trophies,
commemorating all I have seen and survived.
All the while,
just more bars;
keeping me in and you OUT.
Look at the formation,
the line design.
Imprisoned from within
and behind the etched bars on the skin I wear.
I no longer want to give the world a reason to stare at me.
By Mara McWilliams
