It is funny how on any given day the same things can be perceived differently. Or maybe even the way you say something communicates something other than you intended. Life is pretty simple; if you are willing to view it that way...in full pursuit of making the best of whatever it gives you.
Scars: They are a testament to injury, proof of survival and, at times, as indiscernible as a line etched delicately along the crevice of an eye. Although not all mar the physical appearance, they are all there, emotionally and mentally etched upon the skin like a latticework of fragmented memories and barely-remembered moments.
As badges of both honor and dishonor, scars are forever, branded on the heart, and as time continues, we soldier on, somehow stronger.
I dont remember the day and hour; just the silence....the deep deep silence of absence. It was the day I shattered to a million pieces without a hope in the world to piece it back together.