There must be something
heartbreakingly beautiful
or
wild
or  
brilliant
about sadness
that I am not privy to
for my body
simply cannot seem to get enough

I don't know how to tell you
I have a scar in the shape of a backwards L
from trying to paint words upon my skin
on my left knee
and I don't understand why it is backwards because the
o v e is entirely intact
but mistakes happen
and maybe I was crying too hard to see
clearly
you weren't there to witness it
it was so long ago
I don't even remember the day
I tripped and skinned my knee
I tripped and skinned by heart
and now they both
spell out the same word
(just maybe a little lopsided)