Scars

Some deep,

Some dark,

Some invisible.

A few on the body,

In mere shades of memories 

Printed, scattered, etched.

Several, on the soul

Entangled within 

Timeless, karmic existences

Hiding, beneath layers of illusions,

Emerging as painful reminders,

riding on the backs of 

carcasses of past causes.

Scars,

Always a part of me

Narrating my past

Defining my present

Predicting my future.

Reminding me 

Of who I am

And why so.

I cherish them.

It is, after all

These scars

That heal my wounds.