Scratches and Scars
Sad to participate in ritual relief
Of secret pain like dirty ice.
Scars like graves carved in a row on my forearm.
Blood flows in sink and shower.
Feelings writhe inside as
Bad thoughts eat each other alive.
Scratches and scars I understand.
They calm this worried mind.
I absently rub them with my middle finger.
Wrong that feels right,
Covered by sleeve from glancing sight.
Ashamed, you comfort with pain.
Salvaged from Hell and forgiven.
You do not know what good you do.
I kiss you scratches and scars,
Kiss the part you play,
Keeps life from slipping away.
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