My physical scars
have only me to blame:

The divot above my eye
from scratching chicken pox,
the bump upon my head
caused by a nail,
the scratch down my cheek
from a cat less-than-impressed,
the discoloration on my knees
from racing trash cans down a hill.

My emotional scars
have only you to blame:

My inability to trust
which you, I obviously could not,
my lack of interest in love
which I thought was real with you,
my error in stringing others along,
which I learned from the best,
the wall around my heart
that I raced to build as you walked away.

© Autumn Siders 2017


Each scar tells a story
running straight to a nerve
as each tale unfolds
forgotten feelings emerge
and the words in the air
hang heavily about
soaking into each listener
baffled with doubt.
Each wound is a memory
both painful and true
of what happens to life
when it’s sent askew.

© Autumn Siders 2018