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Could You Love Me For My Scars?

I’m scared you wouldn’t love me if you really knew

I’m scared you’d take one look at my scarred heart and run

I’m scared you’d think it was too ugly, too damaged, deformed and not enough

I’m scared that once you’re faced with the undeniable truth that another man has touched me, and you can’t pretend you’re the only one, you’ll run

I’m scared that once you see 

I won’t present as pretty to you 


Would you want to know who it was?

Who he was?

The one who left the most marks?

Could you kiss his scars 

The ones you didn’t create?

(Would you want to know who he is? And what he did?)

Would you be able to love scars you didn’t create and maybe touch them?

Could you touch them with the tenderness I’d need so I can believe that you’ll stay?

Will you say, “Don’t worry babe”

Can you?

Can you sit with knowing you weren’t the only one or even the first? Can you see my scarred heart and sit with me in the dark as well as the light as well as the day as well as the night?

Could you?

Could you stay?

Would you?

Would you truly not care if you fully saw my scarred heart?


But what about my body?

Could you? Could you deal knowing it was once shared with him too?

If you knew how many times and what he left behind

Will you truly understand?

Has your heart ever been sore?

It’s still to early to know where all

you’ve been before 

and I don’t know if we’ll ever get to where I want to go with the secret I’m keeping…

and I’m terrified.

I am so scared you wouldn’t even like me if you knew