Scars and Stripes
Some Wounds Never Heal
not properly anyway
ㅤ
Limbs and chunks wind up
Phantoms, shadows left behind
At least that damage can be seen
ㅤ
ㅤ
Scars of the flesh
a patchwork tapestry...
of; of what?
History gone past is such a strange thing.
invisible fingers on the scale
ㅤ
there often aren't any choices
only One Path
What If, just another tool of torment... right?
ㅤㅤ
ㅤ
ㅤ
Minds drift in space.
ㅤ
Dissociations of ideas
the stress of past, present of future agonies
The Fires of Hope crushed into coals then ash
there are no staples for a broken heart
ㅤ
deep ridges torn into the heart and mind
but What If...? what if those wounds could be...
Can a fractured mind reassemble?
a mosaic of pain and pleasure
Like a story crafted in stained glass what was becomes what can be
ㅤ
ㅤ
We needn't be afraid.
the assembly process is always painful
but better a beautiful temple to life than...
than a pile of rubble testifying death
The scars striping our hearts, bodies, and minds needn't define us
only inform what we do and how.
