Scars

I used to dream that we moved somewhere that one day would show deep in the lines that appear ′round our eyes, oh, lines they look like roads; roads only old age knows.

Memories that we'd forged together would run through our veins.

Stayed in the blood and would never drain, painted in our heads, stained in the deepest red.

But I don′t want some art on my sleeve, no, I want to love; love, cry, and grieve over something that's real.

Oh, I just want to feel a scar no one else can steal.

Now that he's gone I will never know what a scar feels like.

Yes I′ve been bruised but just on one side.

I need this on me like a kiss.

But I don′t want a tattoo on my skin.

No, I want a scar, something I cannot pin on myself when I choose.

Oh, I don't want to lose.