The Time Between Scars

The Time Between Scars

We measure each other in scars.

Try to prove ourselves in the marks on our bodies.

I got this one when I fell out of a tree.  

I could see the whole world.  

And just when I thought I had a firm hold, 

It all came crashing down around me.  

I’m surprised this is the only mark I have.

You counter, 

I got this one in a fight, 

Guy used a knife.   

The small white stain on your skin 

The only sign of injury. 

I don’t know whether I believe you.

I got this one, 

From a tractor tire.  

I was all bruised up. 

The doctors at the hospital asked my parents 

If they hit me.

I got this one 

When I put my hand through a window.  

It didn't hurt when it happened.  

It’s when I pulled it out that it started to bleed.  

I could see the bone. 

We scan each other’s bodies 

Trying to one-up the other.

I don’t know how I got this one.  

I don’t think anyone does, 

I’ve asked.  

Had it for as long as I can remember.  

I show the large gash running across the top of my knee.  

It runs pretty deep. 

And then there’s this red mark right beside it.  

You say it looks like a strawberry.

To me it looks like a heart.

They say people who have a heart-shaped birth mark have a guardian angel.

You tell me it’s a sign of the devil.

I get upset.  

You change the subject.

What happened here?

I point to your eyebrow

I was hit with a baseball bat.  

I had to get stitches.

Me too

I lift my hair to reveal the star on my forehead.  

I got three stitches.   

I should have waited to throw the ball.

I don’t mention all of the scars on his knuckles.  

The little white marks that I see when he holds my hands.  

I don’t ask about those.

And he doesn’t tell me.

This is how we measure ourselves.

The stories we tell,

Of the time between scars.

Words: ©2020LCR
Image: CCO