Poetry: Flaws

from The (Self)Love Collection

By Miriam Alexa

My stretch marks

are flames

so be careful

when you touch them;

you might get burned.

My stretch marks

are the stripes

of a tigress,

strong and elegant

with sharp teeth.

My stretch marks

are branches of a tree

that grows stronger and taller

through every storm

and every season.

My stretch marks

are neither a flaw

nor an imperfection

but a reminder

of my own growth.