I reveal myself to the sun,
A season of heat, a season of sweat.
The white lines on my arms
are only remnants of a battle
I lost long ago.
When young they are bright red,
So clear against my pale winter skin.
But, somehow, they are brighter than ever
against my sun-tanned, sun-burnt body.
Only memories of a brutal war
Are only more vivid in summer's light.
A season of reliving, a season of trauma.
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 4:39 PM UTC
I reveal myself to the sun,
A season of heat, a season of sweat.
The white lines on my arms
are only remnants of a battle
I lost long ago.
When young they are bright red,
So clear against my pale winter skin.
But, somehow, they are brighter than ever
against my sun-tanned, sun-burnt body.
Only memories of a brutal war
Are only more vivid in summer's light.
A season of reliving, a season of trauma.
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