Stargazing

I could see it in her eyes how she had gone through it all.
They whispered of the torments she had endured,
Whatever they might have been.
Maybe they said fat, or lesbian, or ugly, or different.

I never knew. And I never will.

The scars on her arms crossed to form stars:
Constellations to map out the hurt,
And like stars turn to red giants and violently disappear,
One day her memories might do very much the same.
Still scars will linger, like the stars in the sky,
Long after the suffering is all over and done.
I never knew her. And I never will.

But I once went stargazing in a hospital gown.