Scars: ‘I don’t know how you stand when you’ve got no floor or how you breathe with your hands on board’ – wfitzsimmons

 

it might be okay,
it might not.
life isn’t fought for
things to get over
when some scars
just don’t heal.
it’s about learning
how to deal
with the scars
that are real,
so when they’ve
cut you apart,
cut out your heart,
made you a case for
your mirror to face –
I hope I’m still here
I hope I’m your start.
I’ve gone on believing
through love torn apart,
so when you hear
the old lie,
the one they tell still,
that it’s all okay
or part of some will,
I’ll look in those eyes,
though teared-up
and filled,
beyond all those scars
where you’ve hoped
to rebuild,
and tell you the truth,
the truth as it lies,
I see hope in those
terrible, beautiful eyes,
and far more than
ever you could have
surmised,
and that’s how we go on,
that’s how to survive,
love greater than
pictures or mirrors
contrive,
but mostly my love,
for the scars you’ve
endured,
I see only the grace
that our Rood has
procured.

 

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2 Comments

  1. hey. i really liked this quite a bit. one of the very few poems of yours that i like actually (i usually like your prose better, which you don’t write too much of anymore)….I had to look up a couple of words, but I like how it flows.I guess it just made sense to me. woulda commented on facebook, but you get less comments here, so yeah. hope things are going well.

    Like

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