Invisible scars (Marcella Boccia)
The silence hums beneath my skin,a thousand whispers stitched to bone,echoes of wars only I have fought,blades of memories I have not known.I carry scars that no one sees,etched not in flesh, but in the mind,where shadows paint with tender easethe stories that were left behind.The world looks at me and wonders whymy smile trembles like the autumn leaves,but it does not know the weight I hide—the tears that never fall, but grieve.Invisible scars, they cut so deep,not with steel, but with unspoken pleas,the kind of pain that never sleeps,the kind that blooms and never leaves.I am the phantom in the mirror’s gaze,not a victim, but a warrior, still,my wounds are invisible, yet they blazewith the fire of an iron will.So I walk through this world unseen,holding my scars, and holding my crown—for every wound that lies betweenis the strength that will never drown.
