Scar Tissue

Something precious, almost hidden
Something close, but just out of reach
Something familiar, echoing from days of old

Something loving, withheld while enduring
Something wandering, deliberately elusive
Something present, when convenience calls

Attention like a blinding light
Motivated by utility
Yet looking away is not an option

It’s an attraction
It’s a toxicity
It’s a transient tether to a state since lost

There’s a longing
There’s an aching pain
There’s a weary surrender

It’s all the same and in perpetual simultaneity

It’s scar tissue
She’s scar tissue.