Like a travel guide embedded in your tissue,
your scars are roadmaps,
they tell me where you’ve been.
With caution, I run my fingers through the grooves,
and I feel every stone in your path
so I steer away from them
and all the places you wish to never return to.
Your memories are the passing landmarks,
and I see the sadness in every weakened construct.
I’ll never take you down those roads,
I’ll never pave my own.
I promise.