I gasped
as the pain etched itself in
creating the coveted mark
from my wrist
to the inside of my arm

the wounds closed
quickly, and the redness disappeared
and was replaced
by a dark ink like a tattoo
only much more permanent

it was a burning feeling
as the scars seared my arm
and made me its own

I followed the swirling
of the vines
and the thorns
that twined around me
poking me with its sharp ends

the marks are a sign
forever burning
(like the flames in our hearts)
to remind you
because without pain
the immortal will never live

and I don’t know why I chose this life
to wash my past away?
make memories disappear?
letting it be forgotten in the stretch of forever?

maybe I did it for you
to run away from you, who always
put me to shame
and we had what we thought we wanted


now I’ve realized the mistakes that I have made
and the undoable lines on my arm
can be what covers them up

why don’t we erase all evidence
and live a lie
pretending
that we never were.

if nothing exists, no fragments of the past
then who is to say our lies are not the truth?

I once tried to overcome
you
but you wore those scars like an angel
and now I wonder if you really were.

you were always more than you seemed
but now much more?
I never knew
I never will . . .

so let me bear this pain
the flames will stay forever
and let them remind me
of what I never was
and what you always are