The Good Scars

Some scars would stay forever, I learned in my cronehood

and those were the ones

that would make me worth knowing.

They would stay because

I would pick at them, absentminded,

never worth listening to before I turned ugly.

They were the scars that would keep me hook-nosed,

ankle-deep in the mud of the globe

dangling upside down from it

my white wires of hair free

amongst stars

in the galactic breeze.

---

Elizabeth Bolton is a doctoral researcher at the University of Toronto where she studies poetic literacy practices. In addition to poetry, she writes narrative and hybrid works. Most notably, her stories and poetry have appeared in Open Minds Quarterly, Event, NoD, Wayfarer and Dark Ink Magazines, among others.