She wore

She wore her scars to showshe was a soldier,a soldier used to knives;the beatings that she borewere bundled deep insideSomething had convinced her :the universe was nameless,she was cursed from birthwith constant need for meaningratified in sleep where phantomfigures made her understand,God often spoke in strangers voiceshid behind their sleight of hand. Her high heeled misdemeanoursbroke the tension of existence,a will to shine so bright the tearscould never be counted,she courted city streets,befriended urban outcastslistened to other peoples familiescarefully repressing swell of tidal griefIt was only in third personshe could talk about these thingslisten to the moaning of police sirens,the shriek of three year old frompaper thin communicating walls,hug her own children to her chestin order to forget, she remembered.