You see me

And I'm painfully conscious of you

Wanting to raise my head up and let you know

I heard that…

Such a funny question

Asked surreptitiously as it was

In roundabout ways, and hinting

I think she's smiling at me

Circling warily around the fringes

Strange, this invitation

To begin to consider again

In the taste of salt, and sweet

Sometimes bitter

Often only an afterburn left like a bad hangover

The feel of a new surface

The calm reassurance of one you know well

Or imagining fires that might blaze late

In places you're not likely to go

So what do you believe in?

I believe in skin

That it's more than a covering

I believe in the resilience and the sheer feel of it

The ability to hide an embarrassment of



But sight will never tell you all you really should know

So I warn you now

Forearms scarred,

Marked with harsh stains

Speaking years of servitude

Do not tell the whole story

True wounds rarely leave much behind worth seeing

Listen, don't look

You may see what you consider proof

But I beg you to keep your eyes open and

Seek beyond the physical

Because we all carry concealed weapons

I feel no fear of hurt

But I know what's in there, and

I'm simply tired of causing it

What do you believe in?

Cuts are just cuts and they close eventually

Burns heal

Scars fade

When you can see them, that is…