Walking around with scars that peer its head from under thinly veiled scarves. The kind of scarves that make silhouettes look like clouds with a silver lining. Glistening under the moon light. You were branded damaged goods, by your creator. So you proved them right, you wore damaged like it had never been worn before and you wore it good. You filled your cracks with gold and you adorned those scars like an ornament fit for Kings and Queens.

Never has something so broken been so beautiful. Your worth is deeply rooted in the fact that you have lived for a hundred years in pain, fallen a hundred times and won a hundred scars. Precious metal flows through your veins and resides in your tears. Your mistakes may be seen by everyone, but that is not all they see. They see your very soul and now your worth will be engraved in every corner of their brain.