I met her at the lamppost
Where the sidewalk meets the road

She told me that
This smile cuts her in
All the places I cannot see

And I ache to show her the scars
That litter my body
Like the cracks
Under our feet

These bittersweet memories
Cannot be bottled

Yet here I am
Drunk off the past

And is that pressure in her chest rot
Or a certain sort of healing?