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Thursday, October 19, 2006 

The Wound That Never Heals

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The little space above my left middle finger (it has to be the middle one lah LOL), near my left knuckle sits a wound that never heals. There is forever a show of raw flesh with a tinge of blood. I just realised how it got there.

Everyday when I get home, subconsciously I will stand on the same spot, in front of my mirrored vanity cabinet to strip. I always dig left palm first into my jeans pocket to take off my pants. Because of the angle I am rooted in, I always knock my left knuckle against the left side of the cabinet. And when I shower, the wounded spot will itch and I will pick the scab of dried blood few days later.

Now, it’s a permanent addition to my family of scars.

The people in my life are like that too.

They come, they leave a mark, and they do it over and over again because I let them. It’s always over the same issues and after that, I get upset with myself for allowing it to happen.


When will I ever learn to shift?

The moment you stop asking this question

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