You eased the needle through me
Slid it in, out, in, out
As though I were to be woven.
You branded me with holes,
Now I wear them pretty moles.
Questions asked, fears alleviated
In those bare spaces you created.
Faded marks, now jaded memories,
Grown dim, feeble, flickering –
Never can they be extinguished.
Better to be torn and taped
Than to be broken and replaced.
WordPress Daily Prompt : Puncture