Scars in the shape of a poem
Recovery written with irony and betrayal
Triumph overlooked
Victories uncelebrated
Defeat stares at me like my reflection
Is this really all that I am?
My mistakes and bloodshed?
My constant tears?
My pained and aching heart?
Surely...I must be more
More than the stories I can spin
Of sleepless nights
Of new hospitals
Of old friends
Surely...I am more than this
-t.b.