"Pink Skin"

A Poem

“Pink Skin”

I don't want the scar to fade.
The pinky flesh, 
half-risen, 
a perfect reminder of all 
that's old and been made new again. 

As the skin mends,
I stumble, 
suffering acutely from The Bends. 
Your harsh words, 
my willing silence,
all fall off in bits and pieces 
down the shower drain. 

The pieces of you I once knew
scabbed over to reveal the doubt
I always feared we'd come to; 
Maybe it's true. 
Maybe I can live without you.

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