Show me your flaws and I'll show you mine,
The moment is raw and I won't decline,
The chance to be open,
The chance to be kind,
A finger to my lips
To hush words I can't find,
Scars don't determine
Your final appearance,
Nor is perfection
Your final endearment.

I have wounds of my own
But alas you can't see,
Echoes of war that
Ripple through me,
Deep beneath skin
And deep beneath veins,
Tucked away safely
In the confines of a brain,
Kept in a box wrapped in a ribbon,
Collecting dust and carefully hidden,
Away from hands that try to pry,
Scratching at surfaces try after try,
Scrounching for scraps and forever hoping,
That pandora's box will finally be opened