Blessed are you wounded
for beneath your scars lies healing.
Blessed are you wounded
for you have survived.
Blessed are you wounded
for in your pain you found life.
Blessed are you wounded
for, though the world stares
from a safe distance,
Christ stands near -
closer than any enemies,
closer than any friends,
closer than each tear.
And He holds you.

It's not you that I'm scarred by.
It's the relationship we had which scarred me.

Days turned into months and
months into years but
I still remember
the feel of your gentle
kisses on my naked skin,
your soft lips
against mine and
the scars on my soul
when you left me.

If I had wings
I would fly to you
Whilst the wind sings
Guiding me to you
My dearest love
I want to show you
The stains and scars
Of my crazy heart
All this while kept
Hidden from you
Your trust has won
I will tell you my pains
But remember you've sworn
Not to use it for your gains...

©sim

Like you,
I read "The Giving Tree"
When I was young.
And I drank in that definition of love
With my roots.  
I wanted to be that tree.
I wanted to give that love
To everyone; to someone.  
And you found me
And carved your heart on mine.

I have the scar.

And I felt loved
For a while.
It felt good to give;
It felt good to see your smile,
For a while.  
It felt good to give you shade and shelter,
Stripping and shedding
Everything,
For you.
And it became our life.

So how could I blame you for the way you were treating me
Shearing me
Expecting me
to Give,
to Love,
to Serve—
Even when you no longer recognized me?

The rings on our fingers
Spoke nothing of the truer rings,
The rings recorded in me.  
It took many years to learn,
Many years to chop away at that old definition,
Many years to rip away the rotting bark,
Many years of knowing that
A tree is always there because
A tree’s roots are stuck within the ground.

But I am not a tree.

Deep cut from a knife
Short or long, can end your life
But one cut left scar.