I have them
Lots of them
They mark my body
In woven connect the dots pattern
They tell my stories
Of a fighter
The life of a scrapper
A survivor
A dreamer
A believer
Broken pieces
Taken out
Stitched together
I step
I keep stepping
Can’t stop the wheel
Because if I stop
And deal with the scars
Will I like the woman looking
Back in the mirror?
They are my story
Of redemption?
Of peace?
Of hope?
Dark eyes stare back
I touch the scar on my cheek
Two inches
Covered in make up
Sewing scissors
Do you remember?
I don’t think she did
Broken pieces
It is coming
I hate it
This process
I think I would rather just step
But those scars… they are mine
The woven pattern of a life
Worth living
And worth telling
One day
But first I must connect
The dots
The pattern
Of this life
And stop
For a time
To grieve each scar
And put them squarely
At your feet, not mine
I may carry the scars
You won the battle
Please stitch me together again
Only better

Author: JJ Taylor

Many have shared that I am the strongest woman they know. I would disagree... when life kicks you in the teeth there is only one place to look and that is UP! I will be sharing my poetry, random thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, defining my strength and my faith. I'm honest, raw and real. I'm writing more for me, but perhaps someone will find my words that will help you in a profound way

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