Cuts...

Some cuts are paper-thin,
a day nicked by a word said wrong,
a moment sharp enough to sting
then fade.
Some cuts are deeper
the kind time gives
when it teaches by pressure,
by leaving a mark that says
you were here, and you felt.
But even these learn to close.
Skin remembers how to knit itself,
how to pull the edges closer
with quiet patience.
What stays is not the split,
but the line of light
where healing happened
proof that the body,
like the heart,
knows how to choose staying.

Question

Cuts...

Some cuts are paper-thin,
a day nicked by a word said wrong,
a moment sharp enough to sting
then fade.
Some cuts are deeper
the kind time gives
when it teaches by pressure,
by leaving a mark that says
you were here, and you felt.
But even these learn to close.
Skin remembers how to knit itself,
how to pull the edges closer
with quiet patience.
What stays is not the split,
but the line of light
where healing happened
proof that the body,
like the heart,
knows how to choose staying.

forgetmylife · Answer

JAZZY WAZZY This poem is a profound meditation on the resilience of the human spirit. It moves beautifully from the superficial "stings" of daily life to the transformative "pressure" of deep emotional experience. What is most moving is the shift in perspective: seeing a scar not as a record of damage, but as a "line of light." It suggests that our wounds do not leave us broken; they leave us reinforced. The phrase "the body... knows how to choose staying" is a powerful affirmation of life. It implies that even when our minds are weary, our physical and spiritual selves possess an ancient, quiet wisdom that prioritizes survival and wholeness. It is a comforting reminder that healing isn't just something that happens to us it is an active, patient strength we carry within our very skin.