NO FEAR OF SCARS

I have no fear of scars

but wounds.

Wounds bleed and seep,
ooze and weep.

Scars are a road already traveled –
badges for honor earned
or wisdom gained.

A mistake conquered or
only remembered.

A jagged pink and white memorial
across the map of one’s skin

but wounds.

Wounds are still broken-down
along the wayside.

Wounds are partway there,
lost in the night and the rain.

Wounds keep you naked, but scars
are a permanent dressing.

Wounds leave you vulnerable, while scars
only remind you

you are.