Pieces of You

I wear your scar so proudly,
that place where your touch can't be erased.
My fingers find that warped spot
and in it's presence I find peace.

My hands run to that other spot
where you've altered me permanently.
The growth and movement irrevocable,
a consequence of you and me.

When your warmth is but a memory,
and I am but a distant regret,
I'll still bear the scars and alterations,
that you'll one day forget.