Battlescars

My darling, oh! you appear just in the nick of time. All of this was haunting I, leaving marks that force the night. Upon me, from such angles, as to never feel safe. We wear battlescars, they never let us forget, the shadows that dwell here, the love that is effortless, medicinal, a salvation. I wonder how much the body and mind can take, more than I have felt for sure, someone always living in a darker place. The weight of passion, the solitude of strange creatures. I'd rather misunderstand you, she thinks, than spend those ticking seconds attempting to fathom some unfathomable spell. A wind blows here, a storm invites itself upon us. The symbol of its passing will remain, the broken ones in the wake.

So, here I am, still standing. I didn't find my pen for two and a half weeks. I am sorry to those eyes who fall upon this page, and these words herein. I remain for you, alas! it is not always possible to reach you, to manifest myself in the ways I so desire. I want to talk to you about your pain, open up that envelope, find another one, loosely left lying around, and put our shared agony for things inside, stamp it, in the old fashioned way and send it far away from here, from us, release the tiger from its cage. Let us go together, rather than be stranded. I know, I know, it doesn't quite work. All we can is but try. We leave marks on each other, without even trying, perhaps not the sore kind. The world and the battlescars, until we leave these mortal bodies. Oh, the body, so fragile and yet durable. The shell, the love it holds, the way it moves, the light it brings, glowing, ever for those we hold dear. I know, I know this too, I lose my way, I trip into monologues, I reveal too much, somehow nothing at all.

The battlefield never lets us go. It really does hold us tight, closer than comfort would allow. One day poppies will grow here, one day all will be gone and forgotten and some other place will be the scene of such tragedy. For nobody learns, the lessons of history, the love and loss of yesteryear. My darling, all we have is now, whatever the scars the moments cause, we must embrace the beauty of all these things, for life is now, we are trapped in the present continuous. There is no planning, there is no future, there is only us, this, all we can bear.

I wear the scars, for you and my soul, for I know what is true and I know what is right, and I know who are you and what you are. Both of us born perfect and whole, both of us now bearing battlescars.