These scars that I carry,
tell the stories of who I was.
They fill my blank canvass,
and they leave room for stories
of who I will be.
These birth marks tell the stories
of the lives before mine.
Of all the people that I once was
and of the people I will be.
These veins show the life that is inside me.
The blood coursing through me.
Blood that can be easily exposed to the world.
My blood tells the stories of the people who gave it to me,
of the genetics that went into creating this body,
of the ancestors that lived years and years before I did.
Although I will never know who they are,
I carry their stories in me
and they will stay with me for as long as I live.