Good writing happens when you are whisked away from your own reality and placed into another reality.  It happens when someone else’s narrative becomes apart of your own.

Valuable writing happens when you’re whisked away into a perspective that you don’t understand.  It happens when you begin to see multiple dimensions of a narrative you previously saw as one dimensional.

The following guest post by Jocelyn Ressler is that rare piece of writing that’s both good and valuable.

***Trigger Warning***: If you’re sensitive to writing that deals with self-harm and suicide, please don’t read this article.   

img_1336
Do not tell me my scars are beautiful
I did not do this to myself to look beautiful
To appeal to some fucked up
perception of what beauty is
What scars are
What scars represent
Was I beautiful when I was biting my lip
pressing scalding metal to my flesh?
Was it attractive when my mom laid me down on the floor
blood pumping from my arm
the day I went too deep?
Would you tell me I’m beautiful if I didn’t have scars?
Would you have looked twice at me
without the crisscrossing white lines
and the purple blotches?
Wouldn’t it be sad
if the most beautiful thing about me
is the hate that I carry on my body?

“Scars are tattoos with better stories”
Better stories?
Better for who?
Nobody looks at my arms and sees
a good story
A good time
A good memory
Looking at myself
I read the stories
Stories of chaos
Stories of pain
Some marks I remember making so clearly
Others are a mystery
Some of the lines spell out thoughts
Short blurbs of my conscience
“Dad”
on my calf
next to
“Goodnight”
“Whore”
across my chest
“Die” or “Death”
many times
“Fat”
on my stomach
“Get out”
on my right thigh
“23”
on my left
“Rape”
on my arm
and ironically
the biggest
“I know better”
on my leg
Looking at my tattoos
I see the stories there too
Stories of hope
Remembrance
Influence
So tell me
How are scars better stories?
Are they preferable?
Desired?
I’d rather hand over some cash
for an inked man to press needles to my skin
Than give up my life
to take a razor to the same skin

“Never be ashamed of your scars”
Am I to be proud?
If I had harmed anyone else
the way I harmed myself
would you tell me
not to feel remorse?
Why wouldn’t I be ashamed?
I am living on the border
of a society that glorifies my behavior
and a society that condemns it
But neither
will ever understand

“Maybe you should cover your arms; kids will be there.”
“Are you emo or something?”
“Cookie cutter.”
“Why haven’t you just killed yourself?”
“You’re cute. Messed up skin kinda doesn’t help you though.”
“What are you going to tell your kids?”
“Ew.”
“Why are we on a team with the emo girl?”
“Stop trying to get everyone’s attention.”
“Why are your sleeves rolled up?”
“I wasn’t going to tell you, but that looks really ugly.”
“You’re wearing a jacket to homecoming, right?”
And today in a coffee shop:
“Have some self-respect.”

Please read Jocelyn’s most recent piece, “Frozen in Time.”

 

Enter Your Mail Address