Proof

*this poem contains possible triggers*

They say
You collect scars
Because you want proof
That you're paying
For the sins you've committed.

I say
I've paid.
And I've paid.
And I've paid some more.

I have paid
In the literal sense 

With blood,

As that razor rips open my flesh.

I have paid with my heart,
As I give and give and give,
Only to be told
It's never enough.

I have paid with my soul,
As I try to force someone else's values
Down my throat,
Despite how I choke.

I have paid with my mind,
As I tell others what I think and feel
Only to be told
I'm always wrong.

I have paid,
But not for my sins,
And yet I've paid.

And as I look over my limbs
Flecked with white lines,
Tucked away where few can see,
And looking inwards
Where the scars run rampant,
But no one can see,
I say,
Finally,
I have given enough.

I have paid the cost of my freedom
Ten fold.
And I refuse to ever believe again
That my skin is a dumping ground,
Waiting to be torn apart.
And I refuse to believe
That my heart is not enough,
That I'm not enough.
And I refuse to let
Someone else's values
Matter more to me than my own.
And I refuse to believe
That my mind, and what I think and feel,
Is wrong or unimportant.

I matter.

I am important. 

I deserve happiness, love, and respect.

I have every right to take up space.
I am allowed a voice.

I refuse to collect those scars anymore.

I have paid my debts.

My sins have been washed clean.

Allow me to introduce myself,
The new me,
The real me,
The me that honors what's truly inside.

And when I doubt myself,
And those scars whisper thoughts of
Self preservation,
I will remember that they also say:

Beloved child
You are the light of the world 

Beloved child
Go out, spread light to the world

Be strong, be kind, be brave

Know your mind
Know that you're divine
Know that it's alright to be afraid

Know you are loved.

Everything in italics is from the song In Dreams by Jai-Jagdeesh. I take no credit for her beautiful lyrics.