scar tissue hardens
below the surface
protecting me
in my ignorance
of thinking
what i needed
was no one but myself
and the resolve to
be strong

buried below are
years
of hurt
of tears
of confusion...

wounds that
can not be tended to
until i can open
them
to the air

i move slow
i cannot tear it out

i have to gently soften,
and slip it aside,
to tend to the past,
to heal the present,
to greet the future