Poetry: Love

You asked to see my scars,
So I showed you
My wrists,
My thighs,
And hips.
But then I whispered,
“Those are just the ones
On the surface.

And you asked
what I meant by that
And I told you about
All of the scars left
On my heart.

And you replied,
“Those were the ones
I saw first
And that is why I’m
Here to try to fix it.”

Unknown

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