The Sum Of Tears

Sun 04 March 2001
By John Mark Schofield in Poetry

I am not my scars.

Not the sum of my tears.
Not the boy I was or the man you are.

Yet years later,
ripples hit the shore
and I know this will always be part of me.

The rage dances with shame,
and the shame dances with guilt,
and I have hurt people who loved me
because leaving was easier than staying.

The scars are part of me;
history written deeper than skin

I feel the blackness that is in you
and want to reach out through the years.
I want to heal you but I can not.
I want to kill you but it’s too late.
I want to find you but I’m afraid to start.

My scars are not me.

But I hear the echoes of that rape even now.

The cold water on my shoulders.
Your bushy mustache hiding your mouth as you reach for me.
Your soft trembling eagerness as you reach for me.
As you reach me.

This will always be part of me.
But I will remember
that these scars are not me.
My scars are not me.