If scars can tell stories
mine could write a book.
There are the scars from the whips of my master.
I tried to do my best, but he said, “You have failed me.”
My screams are his encouragement
so
I bite my lip at each whip I receive
and
now my back is not the only thing that bleeds.
He laughs
thinking himself powerful,
He believes my tears are signs
of weakness,
but
he doesn’t know
that these welts on my back show I can heal myself
unlike his heart.