Day 45 Scar

I was once beaten to the point of death, left without reason to live. My scars are fading, I no longer hurt, but I remember. I remember shedding tears with no one to catch them. Cold nights that never seemed to end. Longing for death, but never receiving. Some would say scars are a blemish, I disagree. My scars tell a story, a tragedy that created me. Only by dying did I remember what it felt like to be alive. I'm scarred for life, they remind me of my pain, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Lest I forget.