poetry of scars

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This one doesn't feel brave or beautiful.

It is a mark of sheer stupidity

in the face of the obvious

clichè – concensus – hillbilly wisdom for fucksake

 

At the center it is numb

the seam stitched but

never healed proper and now

twitches in anticipation of tears

 

This scar – forever tender

is a daily reminder to let things lie

and the misfiring nerve makes me

acutely aware that even after all is lost

I am still a fool.

 

[This piece comes from a GRIND month writing on the poetry of scars.]

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