they’re scrawled across our bodies
written through our flesh
we can’t fathom how they’re formed
but they terrify us.
so, we keep them hidden
by layers of fabric and cloth
we believe if we ignore them
they’ll evaporate into dust
but they won’t,
for they are the scab you continue to pick
and it is on you to refuse the itch.
then when you think it’s gone,
it’ll appear again
but, this time, larger
taunting you for what you can’t erase
and we all have them, no matter what is said
for they’re our insecurities
and they’re written on our skin.