Reminder

The scar begins like two roads
emerging from my hair,

then intersecting into a jagged "Y"
that slopes below my brow.

The odd feeling of nerves where
there's none is a decade old.

* * *

I remember nodding down, gripping
my snapped arm, then only red.

Must have been quite a gape
before 76 stitches laced

my forehead back together.
I don't remember any sewing

just awful tugging, needles
injecting more as I screamed.

* * *

We were on a bender, I drunkest
in the passenger seat

banging out a song on the dash,
no seatbelt or cares

for an icy night on roads
fortified by granite walls.