story of scars
there is no us, without them.
how could i love someone without scars,
without stories
those are the reality of scars
a tale weaved by the stripping of flesh
the breaking of bones
the abuse of the ego
what shaped you?
what brothe life into your clay model of existence?
the scars either become you
or a part of you
i guess that seems one in the same
but are they the path you walk
or a direction to aim
some scars lead directly to shame
i was not swift enough to avoid life
all its flames
how come no one told us flames are unpredictable
let the chaos consume rather than lift us up
act as if we can control the divine
rather than understand how to move in its time
an intricate dance between us and the signs
symbols provided
you cant see with just eyes