Pride in the Scars.
She wishes away the night-sick words,
The dreams that toss her for a loop
With things only say-able in darkness.
but they stay,
Containing transient truths.
So she accepts them,
Writes them down somewhere.
One day she’ll release them,
Allow them to proclaim the obscurity
of these expectant emotions,
Just like that lion tattoo on her thigh.
When she got drunk on missing him,
and watched curiously as her sister
Wiped the pain-free ink-blood
With dexterous nitriled fingers
While she warned
“I wouldn’t get his name...”
But in her cocky youth,
drunk on missing him,
romantic to the core,
I want to remember
That once I felt like this.”