mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood

Scar tissue has no character. It’s not like skin. It doesn’t show age or illness or pallor or tan. It has no pores, no hair, no wrinkles. It’s like a slipcover. It shields and disguises what’s beneath. That’s why we grow it; we have something to hide.

Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen (via silent-destruction)