Scars

We all have them, don’t we?

S              C              A              R              S  !

They always tell stories, don’t they?

Where we got them?

How long ago?

What they used to look like?

How they faded.       .        .

How,

How   they   still   hurt.        .        .

But isn’t this the truest of true?

The worst scars there are,

the ones that hurt the most,

aren’t the ones we wear on our sleeves,

or can ever really be seen.         .         .

they’re the ones we wear on our hearts,

aren’t they?

It’s an older movie now,

“THE      PERKS     OF     BEING      A      WALLFLOWER,”

2012;

the book, older still, by Stephen Chbosky,

1999,

and there’s a Classic line that’ll knock you to your knees and let the funk run out, or at least, uncover that bruised, scarred, still-very-much-beating heart

“WE      ACCEPT      THE      LOVE      WE      THINK      WE      DESERVE.”

Before I even hint of asking you,

is it

T     R     U     E

or

F     A     L     S     E,

maybe what I should really ask is,

“Are you willing to show your scars,

every minute,

 infinitesimal scar

your beating heart expands

with each pulsation?

Well.        .        . ?

T     R     U     E

or

F       A       L       S       E ?

Sorry.        .       .

you’ve got to

S                 H                 O                 W

your work,

just like some Fifth Grade Math homework.        .        .

P    R    O    V    E        I    T !

Do     Y O U,

Accept the Love

Y       O       U

think    YOU   deserve?

Want      to      see      my      scar ?

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,

you   already   have—-

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,

your    scars    are    my    scars,

my    scars    are    yours.       .       .