Long and thin, barely noticeable unless you're close enough to try.
Made of yellow cotton, stitched together with an empty promise
Or not even that.
Ice buckets are warmer hotel mates than what lies between these scratchy sheets.
Sometimes they feel like an open wound,
Paper birds taking flight,
Late night whispers,
Good morning sleep in your eye.
I like bruises better anyway,
Even at the deepest
They're too shallow to stick around and cause any real damage,
And they don't mind company in their healing.
Scars are more solitary.
It'll be funny when you don't recognize me next time.
Looking sheepishly down at fingers wrapped in selfish skin
Trying to play that same song again.
You know, the one about knees
I'm still working on that backwards walk.
Or is that just the record scratching.
Vinyl scars -
Those do hurt the most.
More like a stretch mark though when you think about it,
A constant reminder of your growth rate,
of how you managed to scrape something else
a little too fast for just a scratch
And a little to deep to just heal and go away.