Stitches

Read and see. It means whatever you want it to mean.

Walking through the pasture
By myself
The night dark as coal
As dark as the heart beating shallow behind my ribs

The wind is the only sound
It whispers what I want to hear
What I don’t need to hear

The grass tickles my knees
And the dirt squishes between my toes
My dress sweeps high on my thighs,
The edges threatening to tear even more
Like the makeshift stitches over my scars