I am an imperfect sculpture
Of life' beautiful scars
Frightening when viewed too close
Perhaps better glimpsed at from afar

Twisting wounds
Healed over scratches
The heart entombed by loves hand
Blood covered enchanted latches

Oh silent masterpiece
Of intentional cuts and scrapes
Purple raised blue bruises
Hidden carefully from the world
I employ delicate spiderweb curtains
And my sleight of hand illusion's

It is only the bearer who understands
Where the deepest wounds are hidden
Bitter tears in a deep bottomless chasm
The unforgettable kiss of affections contusions

These shadows must never be loosened
Forever restrained even by deception
Guarded by spiderweb curtains
And sleight of hand illusion's



All Rights Reserved@ Tammy M. Darby Jan.13, 2013