They split me open.
Inside, they found healed wounds from old battles.
I was repaired. I was fixed.
The scars were there, and they were deep.
But now the scars are just tiny fragments of something that once was.
I wear those memories like a Cartier Love bracelet.
Gilded bondage meant to sanctify inseparable love.
Locked onto me forever with a tiny screwdriver.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Becca Risa Luna 