Pain Shaped Place

Brother shaped my gunshot

Never healed,

Never scarred.

You can dig at the flesh

Raw skin

Bloody muscle fibers

Tearing 

as the greedy hand

Clutches frantically at the heart

And the hand opens

The hand screams:

“true love will find you in the end”

Then I’m bawling in the car all over again

On a sunny country road

Like ten years mean nothing.

I want a scar, not a hole

But ten years mean nothing to a bullet.

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