Scars. I know how it feels.

When was the last time you were completely stumped by a question, a request, or a situation you found yourself in? How did you handle it?

Glistening like a shattered piece of glass, another drop added to the pool surrounding me. Another repeat from the night before, and the night before that, and the many nights before them like a visible echo.

The repetition of one song faintly soothes; its lyrics calming.

Teardrops are still pouring yet I’m trying to even my breathing. Sneaking a look into the mirror over again but it’s never helping; it only makes the worst moments unbearable. The blood drips from my arm exactly like the tears that stream down. Consistent. Never stopping. Never ending. It’s a cycle and the blood is vital.

Pain flashes my mind as I recall the many hard times. The arguments, the fights, the pleading, the cuts, the bruises, the bullying, the sleepless nights, the lonely birthdays, the bottle dad never put down, mom’s cursing, the nightmares, the laughter directed at me – fat…ugly…

I let another tear slide down.

I’m blinded by tears but jerk at the creek of my door. He walks in and I hate that he sees me. I don’t know him much and he doesn’t really know me. Just in one class, English we are seated together but that’s enough for me. Bracelets snake around my wrists so no one can see. But now he knows, or did he always?

Wings lift me up and that’s when I notice he has them too. Bracelets. But then he has a halo too just like an angel’s. Or is that my imagination? Because that’s what I see him to be.

Our hands intertwine.

He whispers “I know how it feels.”

And I’m left stupefied.

Scars. I know how it feels

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