Leeslyvania State Park, Virginia. Overlooking the Potomac River.

You signed your name
Under every scar I bore
As if they were a work of art
And not some broken part.
Funny - in a bitter way -
The song you chose to play,
Running your fingers over wounds
That healed only then
To bleed at your slicing touch.
It's my fault, I know.
I was the one who let you in.
I opened wide the door
And didnt shut myself back up
When your kisses became bruises -
It's better to be loved
By bitterness and pain
Then to be lost in loneliness -
At least that's what I said,
But my voice has become an enemy.
It's learned its ways from you.
What is the difference, really,
Between you and me?
Your faults and my faults?
I am meant to save myself,
And you are love that's lost its life.
You are a name signed beneath my scars.
You are a crime committed compassionlessly,
And I am you by a different name.



Afterthought: I'm working on a post about my holidays, but it's slow. I'm trying to catch up on everything after being gone for a week, and I haven't. It's cold (down into the single digits at night. Plus there is a wind that's harder than normal. Weather says possible -13 during the day tomorrow because of the wind chill), and the snow heaped onto us in drifts the day before yesterday. 16 inches was the highest drift I walked into. I hope all of you are having a happy new year.