under the bracelets
...they saw the bracelets, never the scars
the hundred bracelets on her arms
weren't just jewelry to admire,
as most believed,
they concealed far more
than the eye could ever find
skin she treated like paper,
skin she scratched and cut with pain
skin that carried all her anger,
skin that had learned the sting again
they noticed the pretty bracelets
but never the scars beneath,
just as they praised her smile,
yet never heard her cries
every bracelet guarded a wound,
another night, another mark,
people admired the colors,
calling it fashion, calling it style,
never wondering what she was hiding,
never asking why she wore so many
causeβ sometimes the brightest bracelets
are only chains disguised as beauty
and the loudest cries
are the ones no one ever hears.
~ Eman
