Scarred and Beautiful

Have you ever taken a moment to sit down and count your scars? See how many you've piled up and begin to rival the stars. Some scars are psychical and obvious while the rest hid underneath as others are oblivious. Not knowing the scars that are hidden down deep inside where most of us would rather let them hide. Because the pain of the scars is often unbearable, but the thought of letting someone else see them isn't comparable. They are like cracks in the foundation, any slight disturbance to these vulnerable spots is chancing devastation. So we cover them with temporary fixes and patches hoping that can prevent anything from that attaches, attaches to the old cuts and bruises getting some sort of satisfaction out of others unfortunate abuses. Whether done by ones own self or another we all have an aggressor, maybe they are big or small but there's always an identifiable transgressor. They might be one or more, and for those with more I truly mourn, because I know the pain of a soul that's poor. A soul that's beaten and battered, one that's been exposed to show off all of it's tatters. A soul that is most likely better off dead, or at least so say the demons in his head. Life is so complicated and impolite that when things get tough, people wonder why even put up a fight? Some call it quits and leave the show early, but others just trudge through life miserable and surly. It's hard for the people who give all of themselves up to another just to watch no one else really give a bother. It's like a person who begs for change only to give it away, while others claim hatred for him every day. The hatred may not be implicit or even said, but it lingers in the thoughts lingering in their head. I've been called immature and naive simply because of the simple truths I believe. Such as: money doesn't matter in reality and that hakuna matata does work in actuality. Everybody thinks that if they can change you they are helping the world along, but really they are just trying to amass followers to prove others wrong. People spend so much time building their fortress of solitude and accruing their negative attitude, hiding behind money and possessions because that's how they prove they won something then. Now I won't lie. I enjoy these things too, but they don't consume what I do. I have to many scars and flaws to care about myself at this point the only real hope I have is trying not to disappoint. I've accepted my fate as a broken and shallow mess and my sins I've a thousand times over confessed. Yet I still feel broken and distorted because others still feel like I could be more contorted, more twisted and rearranged to fit their vision of life that's supposed to work the same for me. A soul is a soul that belongs to one life, trying to force it into another will only cause turmoil and strife. Your life may be broken, tattered. beaten, scarred, and ruined like mine, but also remember that your life is beautiful, amazing, wonderous, and so unexplored that you must allow yourself time. Time to understand that it may not be bright now, but it will be later. Time to understand that life is not easy for the brave and strong nor for the more fainter. Life is a beautiful mess that we've helped to create, but no matter how bad it gets it is always yours to dictate.