Scars

[couchgrouch]

ScarsShe asked him to take off his shirtso she could see where he was hurtand with gritted teeth he told that nurseto forget his shotSemper Fi tat on his right armhis chest and back were full of marksshe thought those jagged lines and scarswere maps to a life nearly lostand as she cleaned his cutsfrom the bar fight that nighthe thought back on his pastand wished that he could hidescarshe's had since he was a kidwhen his dad whipped himfor little things he didscarshe got in a muddy foxholethat cut far into his soulmuch deeper than his skin,he'd been waiting for time to mendhis scarsshe told him he could go home soonthen gently dressed his woundscos people in that emergency roomwere her best friendsshe felt so damaged insideher man had left when their baby diedshe had no one by her side to share pain she was inthough she smiled the whole timeand seemed cheerful as could behe looked behind her eyesand somehow he could seescarsthat she'd carried for yearsthat no one could seebut still wouldn't disappearscarsfrom being left by ones she lovedthat only nightmares would speak ofmuch deeper than her skin,she'd been waiting for time to mendher scarswhen she got off that nighthe was waiting by the curbhe asked her to coffee across the streetsometimes it takes one who's been hurtto heal our scarsto heal our scars(c)2004 Robert George