TO THE SCARS

PUBLISHED POETRY INCLUDED IN MY FORTHCOMING COLLECTION: LETTERS TO NOWHERE

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some scars are worth saving,

creating even. prettier left open, 

unadulterated, before the story 

buries itself under exposed pieces 

of fleshy fabric. a pink, juicy worm 

sewn with its own stitches across 

the inner arm. she is not the hands, 

the legs, the breasts, the scars 

across her stomach.

to heal or not to heal?

(isn’t really the question.)

an everyday reflection 

is plated aluminum vanity.

she is not the hands, the legs,

the breasts, the scars across 

her stomach. she leans forward, 

belly slithering over the countertop

like a snake, catching oil and dust.

eyes like a dark forest—

a solitary amber drop spilled 

outside the iris, dark flecks 

crocheted into whisky. decades 

of knowing, but never seeing 

outside the walls of reflection. 

she is not the hands, the legs,

the breasts, the scars across 

her stomach. what is buried beneath?

(is really the question.)

idea piles sewn in circles,

fringe woven into years before— 

embedded, invisible.

everything that won’t be seen,

everything that won’t be undone,

everything that won’t be forgotten,

everything that won’t be untold.

(is really the mirror.)

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Originally published in Beyond Words Literary, February 2022