Lesions

Even my scars have begun to dance.

Stretchies dug into my arms and waist, carved

a river from top to bottom,

parting pathways to joy.

I’ve held insecurities

long enough to name them:

alive, magical, unicorn horns leaping across my chest and spinning into my stomach.

Now my scars dance

across the page-

inking a love letter to me

Newsletter: sign up for my NiqueNotes, my newsletter on how I was able to heal from trauma and define my identity to find joy within

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