Her Parthian thrust wounds me deeply,

Bladed whip sinking in farther than she thinks it did,

To this day, I trace the scar lovingly,

Remembering days gone by when enemies

Laughed and loved the hands that carry

Their death sentence; when we stood

Not on opposite sides like vexing lovers

But on the same, shoulder to shoulder,

Fighting all that dared challenge the might of

Naïve children, fancying themselves invincible

Fools that fell prey to their confidante’s betrayal;

To this day, I trace the scar lovingly

Remembering wounds that came before this,

Remembering blood that poured out in streams

When hearts turned against the hands that helped

The other up; refusing to leave one behind

Bound to each other by more than blood and blood

Soon covered the hands of the child too young to know

The ways of the world; the corruption and deceit

To this day, I trace the scar lovingly

Only one of numerous wounds placed there by

Sharp tongues and barbed hands, reaching out not

For help, but for reasons neither understands, blood

On both hands as they fall further into the darkness,

Each step yanking them away from the innocence of

Childhood tribulations, the clarity youth brings, the

Laughter dying away, faint echoes straining to be heard;

To this day, I trace the scar lovingly

Thinking, not of secrets to be shared but plotted moves,

Future attacks, ways to place more scars, spill more blood,

Pushing away the memories that threaten to engulf me

Should I but even think of forgetting, the sharp sting of

Daggers stabbed into my back, time and time again and

Attempting to ride out the storm, losing grasp on

The clouds of darkness that gathered, wiping away my denial,

To this day, I trace the scar lovingly,

Planning my revenge; a sweet, slow, sensuously torturous thing

Payback for all that I’ve endured in the name of love and friendship.