Chapter 1: The Childhood Memory

In a moment of childhood innocence turned to reflection, I recall an incident where I inadvertently cut my finger with a jackknife while attempting to slice an apple. The contrast between the dark peel and the vivid red inside mirrored two distinct realities, bleeding into one another. I see myself, almost from a distance, having descended from my workspace with the apple and knife, witnessing the blood flow—a scene reminiscent of a film, with my parents absent.

I remember reading that every captivating children's tale often begins with a sense of freedom from parental oversight. Although the knife was mine, I wasn't meant to wield it solo; it was the forbidden fruit, kept high on a garage shelf by my father, a clear message to stay away. As I cleaned the blood from the wooden floorboards, each drop seemed to elongate the hallway, reminiscent of Hansel's breadcrumbs, leading me toward a bandage in the bathroom.

The memory of that day, intertwined with the scar left behind, is etched in my mind—each drop of blood a reminder of the abandoned apple and the jackknife, which I returned to its place as if it had never been touched. The fear of being discovered for my actions overshadowed any concern for the injury itself. The mental anguish lingered long after the scar had formed, firmly placed in the list of secrets never to be shared with parents.

Any moral that might have arisen from this tale has long been lost, just like the lessons hidden in the shadows of that narrow hallway replaying in my mind. When left alone, an active mind tends to gravitate toward negative experiences, caught in a self-punishing loop. To whom do I confess this self-inflicted failure, this unforgivable sin that replays every time I glance at my hands?

The scar from that moment—a thin white line—serves as a historical marker, akin to notches on a tree or the height measurements in a doorway. Similarly, deeper emotional wounds, although they may appear healed, are often veiled with scars. These marks of memory are nearly invisible in some places, yet they form a complex web, held together by sheer will. Unlike my finger, these emotional wounds open unexpectedly, with pain sometimes seeping through, a bitter reminder.

They say time heals all wounds, but I find myself questioning how much time is truly needed. If healing equates to wholeness, then how does one reconcile the constant reminders of emotional pain, whether through an object, a glance, or a word? The fear of recurring hurt never truly dissipates.

Can a cut—be it an apple or a heart—ever truly be restored? Flesh as we are, can wounds ever serve a purpose, or do they simply fester indefinitely, our desire to heal transforming into paralysis? We often pursue what harms us, missing the solace it provides.

How does one navigate healing through the long hallway of life? Is a bandage merely a temporary fix to halt the bleeding? Is the struggle to regain wholeness rooted in an unwillingness, or is it genuinely unattainable? Can wholeness manifest in a different form or season, and does healing coexist with scars?

Does a return to wholeness come from forgetting or remembering, as we replay memories, trying to make sense of our experiences? Each discarded piece of memory is like a film's cutting room floor, yet we endeavor to stitch together the remaining narrative of our lives.

"Show me your scars, and I will share mine—the ones you cannot see." Would stitching truly alter the outcome?

Since October 2023, I have embarked on a poetic journey inspired by prompts from Japan's traditional lunisolar calendar. This micro-season, June 21–26, is named Self-Heal Withers (natsukarekusa karuru 乃東枯). While it refers to a medicinal plant, I chose to reflect on the literal implications of healing and the possibility of restoration.

For additional poems from this year-long exploration, please refer to my "Micro-Season Poem Cycle." Thank you for engaging with my work!

Chapter 2: The Journey of Healing

In this chapter, we explore the deeper meanings behind our experiences and the scars we carry.

This video, "INXS - Original Sin (Official Music Video)," delves into themes of regret and longing, paralleling our exploration of emotional scars and healing.

The second video, "Elton John - Original Sin," further enhances our understanding of the complexities surrounding emotional pain and the quest for healing.