Please, Don’t Pity Me

Dread crawls up my spine like a snake wrapping itself around a tree branch. It clings to my bones. I feel its muscles flex as it holds on for dear life. It lifts its head, its tongue laps up the air, and it waits. There’s a strong breeze. It’s bitter but sweet. There’s a rippleContinue reading “Please, Don’t Pity Me”

Do You Love Your Scars?

Do I love my scars? Yes, most of the time I do, but maybe love is a strong word. I’m not enamoured with these lines on my skin. When I look at them, I don’t feel an intense euphoria and an unconditional affection. My heart doesn’t skip a beat, and my stomach doesn’t twist itselfContinue reading “Do You Love Your Scars?”