carved into flesh

Some pains are too deep to be forgot, they are just carved into flesh in some little hidden place.
You can try to cancel them, you can think for a while they are gone away, you can try to just live as they do not exist. But they do.
They come out of a little detail: a name on the newspaper, a smell in the street, a song on the radio.
Every corner is a present danger. The shadow of one of your pains can come out of it at any moment, and you know far too well that the little scar will ache once more.
And then again.