After The Scars Have Healed

I've done wrong, I hurt, and I've hurt others. A life of rejection, judgment, and heartbreak was normal to me. In 1979, I dove into a world of self-destruction-prostitution, drugs, and abuse-it kept me breathing. But I was long gone, a walking dead soul who attracted abuse, fear, and death at every turn. Each unfavorable event left a scar on my onyx skin that I couldn't escape. I tried seducing death, but it played with me instead. As I've said, "Death didn't even want me." I married for love and received abuse from a heroin addict.