so tell me
can you see my scars?
do they glow in the dark?
are they raised up and mangled,
like they were at the scene?
or are they just smooth disruptions
on an otherwise stubbly body?
to me they’re part of the scenery
telling a parable from ancient history
(or sometimes comic reruns from last week)
they are motionless and malleable
they tell my story too easily
and with a recklessness i’ve long since forgotten
i am too careful now
to see them in all their glory
but i listen every day
to what they have to say