My Scars Have Been Fading As Well And Their Barely There At This Point But If You Really Want To See

My scars have been fading as well and their barely there at this point but if you really want to see them you can, this is exactly how I feel.

You can’t see them anymore, my scars, unless you really want to. 

I have photos to prove that they were there. 

And I have enough hatred for myself left to see them now. 

They’re going to get clearer and clearer and I’m going to hate myself more and more and I don’t want people to put up with that. 

But at the same time, I can’t bring myself to keep them faded. 

Because they’re a part of me, now, forever. Battle scars. 

Maybe, also, it’s a part of feeling valid. As if seeing them makes me entitled to the bad days that I occasionally have. The days of suffocating panic and the constant ‘scars, scars, scars, scars’ that runs through my head. 

Well, look. I don’t have these days often, and they come with the reappearance of my scars in summertime. 

So, really, I’m just silly. 

I just want to love myself. Scars and all. 

And I can’t just get rid of them. That wouldn’t be fair. 

So what am I meant to do?

Ignoring them doesn’t work, and hiding them isn’t practical. 

They’re starting to reappear, slowly. The sun has that effect. 

I dislike it but why am I making no effort to fix it?

I think I covered that, but I do have the tendency to circle. 

I want to cry and that is remarkably stupid but I do. 

I do.