As you wish not to see the scars you have cut through my own hand,
And yet you deny me the freedom to feel the cool breeze on my arms,
Even now you will not let me to clean my wounds with salty tears,
Because you fear the work your taunts have kneaded into me by the knife of your palms.
But still I can lash back at you with wit of the tongue,
And try and transfer the hurt inflicted by your angry looks
And hasteful glances, which I know so well is your thoughts of judgement,
But someday i will run liberated, free from your prejudice,
I will show my pride as i laugh to the sun with no one's consent.
And then i will be above you, shining as bright as the sun,
Because i have risen through these harassments to such
Happiness you cannot quash with your grappling fingers,
And my scars will have faded with the light of my thoughts,
But will remind me to never look back on what you have done.