Scars

She tucked in her shirt,
smoothening the crinkles as she carefully covered the lines
Lines straight...jagged and branching off
Witness to her world of pain

He climbs out of his bed,
Stands under the shower, and watches
As the rivulets of water almost skirts the crevasses on his chest
Staunch companion of the darkness that he carries

Silently, the little head looks at the mirror
A pale pink bolt of lightening streaks across the black brows
It's edgy and lumpy
Footprints of the monsters he knows are real

Standing she shifts the tank top to cover her left shoulder
Jagged, Edgy...it is "cool"
But a Tattoo it is not
Marks of crimson invasion