My flesh is raw, open, sore, red. It hurts. I want the pain to stop, but it’s new. I can feel the place where it struck me…
HARD.
FAST.
The words
they burn
my
skin.
I want to turn away. I want to let it heal. I want it to all be over and done with and gone. Instead I stare into the raw open wound. It’s surging with pain.
I can’t stop it I can’t stop it I can’t s t o p it s t o p t h e pain.
Your words are burned into my skin.
Your words sting.
They hurt.
They burn.
They burn.
Stop.
Don’t.
Let me heal.
I want to heal.
I want to be new again.
I don’t want to feel anymore.
You know me.
You said you loved me.
You said you would be there.
And now you’re going away.
Gone
Hurt
Gone
Sting
Gone
Surging
Pain
Will you ever come back?
Will you ever bandage the words/wound?
Heal.
Time.
Heal.
Loss.
Heal.
Pain.
Heal.
Growth.
Pain.
Love.
Words.
Words.
Words.
Wounded.
Words.
This is beautiful, elegant, and unapologetic. Poetry is such a beautiful glimpse of the soul. Thank you for sharing!