I hid my wound under my clothes.
Nobody could see it, including myself.
So, I completely forgot about it.
Then I met someone who, filled with love, held me tight in that point.
The pain was devastating, and I hated him, o how much I hated him, the cause of all my suffering.
Then I met someone, beautifully dressed, and I loved him so much, holding him tight with all my passion.
And he suffered badly, for I touched his wound.
And he hated me, o how much he hated me, the cause of all his pain.
So the story went on till I met someone who undressed himself, standing completely naked, with all his horrible wounds.
Hence I also undressed, and I saw my horrible wounds, which he could also see.
Then…
Franco Santoro
Image: Wound by Mark Ryden