You say it’s only
healing
while I pick at scabs
coping, hoping
that someday I’ll
learn to live with
stitches,
stretch of scars
and this:
my skin’s too thin
to stand your
words of
condescending
carving.
Today Grace is hosting dVerse OLN. I was thinking about scars as metaphors, and ended up with this, I have yet to visit a therapist, but I think I might feel a bit like this. Pub opens at 3 PM EST.
—
September 8, 2016

Oh this just shouts with pain
Hey.
Cool poem. And I can relate to the metaphor
Excellent use of metaphor, Björn
sometimes the only way to heal is to examine those scars, get to the root cause of the problem ~ some therapists are good at that, others not so much ~ an interesting take on therapy! 🙂
Condescending carving – wow! That is exactly what condescending words are like, though, carving a bit out of our souls.
I can relate to this. I have been to a therapist and it never seemed to help the wound heal. It was a lot like picking at a scab and making the wound bleed again and again.
Excellent metaphor. It seems going to a therapist is like that – pulling off the scabs over and over and getting the wound to bleed. The last stanza says it all. One reason I stopped going to a therapist. I never healed.
Oh this is soo poignant ❤ I do feel that sometimes we should let things be and allow time to take its course when it comes to healing scars.
We all have to learn to live with stitches. And my skin’s too thin for those words too! Happy OLN Bjorn!
Why is it that therapy insists that bleeding over and over again is good for us? Well spoken words.
“words of condescending carving” – a great expression for something we all know, perhaps too well.
Oh I just passed you poem.. and commenting is closed… such lovely rhythm…
Sad — on all angles
Uncomfortable to read which is exactly how this therapist visit is playing out. Good work.
And you pay for the privilege of the experience–lol
Gosh that says so much in so few words…
Oh, ouch! Metaphors….great things for a writer. I hope you get to heal….and I’m with Toni….they rip open the scabs and you get scabs on scabs….condo of scabs for life. Ugh. Love the poem, love the last lines.
Love the metaphor, and it’s a very real feeling!
Oops! I thought it was funny.
Very powerful and oh so relatable. I know the feeling and felt the pain.
Last line is so brilliant…..cool poem..!
Excellent metaphor, Bjorn – sharp and painful, but true.
“condescending carving.” ~ ooh, love the phrase. I wonder what kind of therapist could stop the pain.
My mother always told me, “Don’t pick at it!” She was a wise woman. Great poetics, Bjorn…effectively brief (which is what we’d hope from therapy)!
I sometimes think that most of us could use some form of therapy, since we count on our spouses & friends for being a sounding board & counseling. Yes, you aced the use of metaphor as well. Thanks for your support for my continuing with my cinemagenic saga.
Scars as a metaphor–I have many. To me they represent survival. Last time I flew, TSA wanded me, patted me down and took me to a private room. I told them that the density they were seeing was my kidney transplant. They were doubtful so I said, okay, and just showed them my scar! Yikes. I embarrassed them. :0)
People hurt others with their words without them knowing it. I have found myself in the first paragraph situation (too many times, unfortunately). Then, I’d wonder what wrong thing I said. Duh. On the other hand, that lack of tactlessness is directly proportional to my thin-skinned reception of certain words. I think, either way, people need therapy – to avoid hurting people; and to be a little more easy-going about others’ words.
This is a great piece. I especially love the second stanza.
Picking at scabs – I never thought of it that way, before – but now that you put it that way, I probably won’t think of therapy … any other way. Ha!
I did and it felt a good deal as you described. I said it was like splitting my abdomen and spilling my guts. Then cramming them back in at the end of 55 minutes.
This is a really good poem. I like it a lot.