Sonnet 17.

What should she say and how should she begin,
When all she feels requires no words at all?
Do they know of her silence deep within?
Of all her struggle– of her rise and fall?
It is a rather vile and dreadful thing!
To feel so much and keep them all inside,
To lose your voice and unable to sing,
To keep yourself behind your walls and hide.
Does she cover herself under the stars,
And think of the chaos inside her heart?
Is she afraid of me seeing her scars,
And consider herself as one failed art?
            Does she know that even she’s in pieces,
            I will still love her for all that she is?




So what if you have beaten and scarred?
I think your scars and wounds are beautiful.
And I will love them,
Just as I would love every sing inch of you.
I would fight on so that you may heal,
Just like I would fight on so that you won’t hurt again.


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