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.