Pity

I take a minute to feel sorry for myself
Taking my arm in my hand
Looking at my scars I say


"Oh you poor child,
you've been through hell.
What did you go through
that you did this to yourself?"


"O sweet child, you've never done anyone wrong.
You are worth all the tears in this world.
The world owes you so much happiness,
I just hope you stay long enough to see it"


So I raise my hand and kiss my scars.
The kisses are awkward but meaningful.
My head pounds and hand aches,
but this interaction will never see the day
for only the brave, at night, stay.


So I hope my knuckle doesn't swell
but my heart does instead
hoping to see a stranger
who will do this all over again.