We skipped the meeting We weren’t supposed to We’ll be punished accordingly But at this point, I don’t care She traces the pink and raised lines on my skin Healed…..physically “Where did this one come from?” She asks outlining the edges and curves of each letter on my abdomen “Down on K-Street.” She furrows her brow and frowns “That’s one of the worst ones.” I gaze up at the ceiling “I know.” And she knows that I know It is one of the worst ones, but when running late to work Sometimes you have to take a short cut And sometimes that costs you It was my fault I didn’t get up in time But still it doesn’t permit people to do what they do The world we live in now is different, and anything like that goes …..Sadly “This one you can barely see…” She comments leaning in the low light To get a closer look Her fingers grazing the small blemish Her brown locks falling in her face I reach up and tuck some behind her ear She gives a slight smile while still examining the mark The pad of her thumb sweeps over my hip bone Where it runs along “Yeah, that one wasn’t too bad.... Didn’t hurt as much as some.” Her hand makes it way up to my chest With a feather-like touch Hovers over one of the newest additions Still red and swollen “This one did and still does." She states reading over the word I inhale then exhale Still recalling the pain Still reeling from it It happened a week ago This was on A-Street I was coming back from work Usually I make it home fine But I stayed late and missed my usual train A RB caught me, and well the rest is on my chest “You have them too.” I point out She forms a sad smile Before meeting my eyes Her bright green orbs filled with sorrow “Not like this.” The way she says it So matter of fact but thick with grief Over marks which aren’t hers It’s different It takes me by surprise But I don’t want her to worry about me “They heal.” She shakes her head looking away “Don’t pull that crap on me They never heal, not completely. All these scars All the words etched into you. Carved in to you and me—to so many others They should never be there in the first place. So don’t try and put on this tough-guy mask And pretend they don’t ever hurt or bother you. Because they do and I know they do. They bother you and me and millions of others.” She’s angry, and she has every right to be I’m being thoughtless Trying to be strong when I need to be vulnerable I’m not taught that I’m supposed to be strong, not weak Weak is how I end up with all these marks on my body At least that was what I was taught But she’s taught me it takes more courage to be vulnerable than strong Because anyone can put on a mask Appear as if words never bother you But to be exposed to who you truly are All guards down and have someone else really look at you It takes a lot of courage for someone to see you Stripped down and defenseless “Some of them I can’t see Because of where they are But I remember each one And I can recall the level of pain with each Some hurt more than others But all are painful And I get up and look down I look so beaten and damaged So scared And I hate that I hate looking in the mirror Which is why I don’t have one anymore And showers are the worst Because I’m exposed At least clothing masks most of them So being in there….with water running over them It’s like it amplifies their existence.” I pause then add “But I like to not smell so.” She releases a breathy laugh I take her hand, intertwine our fingers And don’t continue till she meets my gaze “Yes, I see them On you, me, and so many others I wish I didn’t I want the world to be so different than what it is And I want to change it But I’m scared I’m damaged in so many ways And I don’t know how broken people can fix other broken people.” She squeezes my hand “I’m going to say something corny And you’re going to listen.” She directs with piercing eyes “I’m all ears.” She rolls her eyes before turning serious “Not alone. That’s how we change this society This horrible world Because one voice can be heard But many voices cause others to listen And we want them to listen So not alone.” I nod and bring our intertwined hands up And press a soft kiss to her knuckles “Not alone. Well, it wasn’t as corny as I thought it would be.” I tease and she smacks my arm But the look she shares afterward Is so full of affection So caring and deep It fills this void other people take away But they won’t take away this Not matter how cheesy that might seem They’ll never steal this She leans down and her lips brush over the word on my chest The freshest one She whispers against the mutilated tissue “You are not worthless.” And that’s when I break Because that stripped away anything which was left Before I know it She’s kissing away the salty streaks on my face Repeating the phrase again and again And it feels so nice to be seen without all the masks on Scars bared and all
I wanted to write a poem about verbal abuse and bullying, and I imagine if people could see the words and things other say - it would leave scars on the body just as much as physical abuse. I hate that in this world. I wish everyone was more kind, but there is side to every story. So be nice and kind to others. And thanks from anyone who is kind to others, spread it.