exposing the dark side of adoption
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my scar


my scar is real.

i carry it with me every day.

it is about the length of a quarter.  just below my lowest left rib.  it always looked like a circular banana slice

i haven't looked at it in a long, long time.

i'm looking at it now.

it used to be more round, i swear to god.  smooth and bumpy.  born of trauma.  not a birthmark. 

it has always stayed the same size, even as i grew - so it used to seem huge, but seems small now.

i used to like to run my hands over it.  i must have looked strange doing that, as a kid.

i used to ask every doctor what they thought it was, and none could tell me. 

i always thought it was a burn.

haven't thought about it in years, actually.

today is a new discovery!  or maybe i'm just seeing it clearly for the first time!

it is NOT round and there is a barely perceptible crease running through the length of it.

there are two darker spots along that crease that are dimpled, equi-distant apart.

it looks to be a really badly badly stitched hole.

i wish my scar could talk.

maybe my scar could tell me why i have always, always been solemn

but why i have always had some basic self esteem

and why i am so positive my birthday is correct.

maybe my scar could tell me my name.

i love my scar. 

it's all that i came to america with.

my memento of korea.

by almost_human on Tuesday, 29 July 2008