I remember the significance of scraped knees and ripped jeans
the feeling of running, running, running, falling and bleeding
Scrapes on my knees were a tomboy signature of mine
The pavement, the gravel, the untrimmed grass, my home

Each time a scabby joint was replaced with a healthy little girl's knee,
I would take off running, running, falling and bleeding

At the time, I didn't know the significance of all this running, falling and bleeding

Then, the other day, on a trip to the garage for some bottles of beer,
I slipped on a patch of ice that sent me reeling and left me face first on the pavement
Knee bleeding through my trousers, I collected my beers and left

I spent the rest of the night drinking beers and taking tequila shots through thick layers of smoke
All while my knee bled through my trousers, stinging, scratching

I woke up to a sensation of pain
My leg refused to straighten itself out without stretching a scab, scratching and stinging, struggling to keep itself together

As the week passes, I cannot stand or sit for too long without my knee struggling to repair lost skin, tightening scars around a bony joint

There is a sensation of pain
And suddenly, I remember the significance of all that running, running, falling and bleeding