Her Scars

A poem about my second girlfriend, who raped me and took my virginity. This is sort of my ode to forgiving her, and reaching understanding of why she did what she did.

Sometimes I think

I know a lot about scars.

I am acutely aware however,

of how little I truly do.

My scars are meager.

Though each tearing,

methodical and slow

was em-purposed by my internal achings,

they are but hills and valleys

among the canyons of titans.

I felt her scars.

Kneaded them with my fingertips.

Too addleheaded and hollow-minded

to understand.

I was young.

I caressed on numerous instances,

blindly, the moist,

softened scar tissue

he had left her.

When she was young.

Life is little like the written word,

black and scratch

on endless white.

But rather, ink bled

miasmic whirlings, undulations

and brilliant supernovas,

starbursts under negative exposure

upon the blank plane of space.

I saw her once as a villain.

Who raped me,

contorted me,

controlled me,

then threw me away.

I was young.

So was she,

as the beastly creator

of those moistened scars

bore down upon her.

Her body was not the only thing torn that day.

He made for her

a life as a victim.

Blowjobs so that someone would love her,

Pillowcase over her head

fucked in the back of vans.

The crime was not his alone.

They were unwitting

accomplices in the act.

She had a chance once,

when she was young.

When I found her, or rather

she found me,

She had become hard.

The flesh of her heart and spirit

far more coarse and knotted

than that of

the visible scarification.

They had sharpened her.

Whet and whittled her,

through their crimes,

into an instrument of their own destruction.

Devouring all men

in her path to vengeance.

She devoured me.

And spit me out, scared and scarred.

It would be years before I understood,

as I sit here today

knowing she meant no harm.

She had no more ability

to tenderly caress my heart

than an elephant has

to tread lightly upon a princes lawn.

I loved her once.

When I was young.

I can forgive,

but I will never forget.

I know her scars.

By: Torrin A. Greathouse

Reviews

[DarkRainbowPie]

This is absolutely brilliant! How this has only 27 views, I will never know. It's written so well, and your understanding of her actions is so evident through out. The feelings conveyed in this are so powerful, they practically slap the reader in the face when reading, they're just so prominent. Your words flow so easily, you'd swear they were rhyming. Aw wow, this really and truly is a brilliant poem, by far one of the best I've ever read, well done on a brilliant write, it really hit me hard.

[Emily B]

i am humbled by your understanding