I've talked about
metaphorical scars on my heart,
that will never go away.
But I haven't spoken
about the literal ones
that my hips will
    bare forever.

Little notes
of slightly discolored lines
on previously
perfectly toned skin.

They speak to me.

They talk,
    they say things,
they remind me of days
    and weeks and months
and events and times and people
and conversations I've had,
and feelings I've felt,
and moments where
I just thought I couldn't
do anything anymore.


               "scars" pt 2.
                       d.s