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.
It was the day I lost my mother.
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