Winter Writing Sanctuary 2.6, Wrap + next steps, Spark 11

Mending

The wound has

a timeline

no matter

how slow. 

First, the cut.

The blood that

you think will 

just keep flowing

clots. 

And then the

knitting, the 

rough and 

itchy scab,

the worrying

that keeps

pain fresh. 

One day, the

brown patch

is gone, beneath

it unbroken skin

again. 

Sometimes

There is  a scar,

sometimes

none. 

I thought 

you would 

never speak

to me again. 

And then

you

replied. 

Justine C. Tajonera

Image by Christopher Paul High of Unsplash

NaPoWriMo#1: Scar

Scar
by Justine C. Tajonera

It is there forever, a darkening of the skin,
a toughening of the surface.
I fell from the stairs of a beach house last June.
Even after getting my wound
I swam in the water until three o'clock when
the water receded with the tide.
We ate crab and lechon and seaweed
salad all afternoon.
I never thought the scar would stay.
I am not young anymore.
The scar lies there like regret or
remembrance. I sometimes can't tell.
I never really looked at my legs before,
not until after the scar.