Those little scrapes and cuts that eye obtain just from living; often, no, always, unaware from where or wince, or whence....they came, and more oblivious to their invisible departure...but I do notice this:
their stay, for they overstay their welcome....unlike in my youth, these scratches would barely pass the night, and be gone before the next morn....

now I do not know when they come or when they go,  but stay and stay and stay. For the skin repairs itself so much slower when you are older....and you think just a little how it ain't no different with the heart cuts 'n scars, fresh and old.  Same,  you get older, you notice them, can't exactly recollect when you earned them...but
you feel them hanging on to you, as if they came with you when you were new in the showroom.....but didn't show up till whenever