Time promises the world, but it never delivers.
Claiming to be a great healer, it only dresses wounds – patching me up so I can limp on
through. I have suffered long enough, and I am ready to take the next step.
Will my wounds ever heal? Will I ever be left with a scar to show the world? If that time
ever arrives, I will take pride in that scar. It is mine. I earned it. It will be there
for all to see.