||[Dec. 20th, 2014|02:52 am]
While the scars sting less as the years play them thinner, they still are always edging at the surface.|
Scars screaming out to stars as they burst open with the least abrasion.
Tension pulling tight the mind, and sinew of the flesh, and taught it may break.
But a miracle might rescind their effects,
The way that they might affect in subtelty.
How only those who have the mar and the scar might know the worlds and minds produced of the violence of poverty.
The violence not just being the unfertile ground for which one might find themselves.
Though if you cannot grow in the ground grow in the air, grow in the sea.
Find away oh live you marvel, kudzu, bamboo and dandelions.
Many might see you as weeds yet marvels all, and food to boot at least for our digestion.
So beautiful so many things might be with eyes enough to see them