The Scars

On one arm lines
short, long
some hesitant
The other a circle
like a carved ringworm
pump, fat, and staring

But, what of those unseen?
those invisible badges
not honorary, but truth?
What name belongs among these
the tarnished, rust pitted
the new and shiny…

Do we accept them with grace?
pin them onto flesh lapels?
like glamorous awards?

Or,

Can we wake to the latest additions,
no rhyme, reason, or excuses
no words to convey the givers’ wishes?

what?
or, arrange them all
categorically owned
Yours and mine
the blank and the blatant
And…

I thank you
with the rake of violence
the kiss of new days
fresh bleeding rawness
reminders lines
enforcers burns

The takers’ torturous dreams
The liars’ seductions

All these scars
in the Now
from once ago
I carry as I am…

©2007 Taboon1

~ by taboon on October 26, 2007.