Wounded

You scratched the wound,

That is why it bled.

It carried on bleeding,

Because you stayed,

You listened,

You were there.

I do not know

How aware you were.

Whether it was a choice

You got to make

Or just another example

Of life falling in

And out of place.

 

It was not a choice

That I made.

We do not know

Our scars until

They are open.

Closing them up

Is hard to do,

Especially once

You have found

The right person

To listen.

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