You hid that cut on your face from the gathering of eyes and mouths

Its marks strewn down and across your cheek and chin to mar you

Caused you to bend away, to cover the real you

So you think it is

The struggles and battles and forays for free living left you with it

The fight over what you wanted and what wants yours could be met when

Holding back and dragging through, skirting about jagged edges that bruised you

Badly

That signature need not be shown to be confirmed present

Your concealing it testifies that it is there and that it holds you

So all you are is explained by a scar from your past

Yet, you let it be so

You do not let it heal

But the infection rising from plastered over wounds damages your life

You are sick; your character showcases your sorry state

Your soul’s injury is an agony for lack of being attended

Come now, hide your frame no longer

Let the veil down and let the air of freedom act upon your bruises

Let the coming of plainness be followed by the reaction of truth and time

And the love and mercy of many compassionate embraces

In the place where we are united by a common trait

The scars from our past lives

We give each other our most priced possession

The love that our wounded healer gave us

So that even the near-dead can be loved back to life

So your scars should be seen

The sign that you no longer writhe in pain

And that your healing be made complete if you still do

In the meeting with our scarred savior