A poetic journey through my mind

Vinegar and Brown Paper

nursing invisible bruises, inflicted by words used like heavy hammers, pounding away at the core, printing their story for a trapped and desperate audience of one.
bandaging invisible scratches, deep and painful, grooves cut sideways through the music, against the rhythm of a life. sharp-nailed words and thoughts, expectations that can never be met, an oyster with no pearl.
sewing up invisible slashes, some shallow and weeping blood tears, some deep and gaping, deepest thought and belief open to the eye, ravaged and torn. how can they know, those who strike, the perfect spot to place the knife?
how do they know how to hurt, how to bruise, how to scratch, how to slice…how, finally, to kill? and how can they, and feel nothing themselves??

2 responses

  1. They are ignorant, they spit out their words their opinions they are too blinkered to see. Forgive them they know not what they do. Hugs

    November 20, 2012 at 10:38 am

    • KC


      November 21, 2012 at 12:30 am

Talk to me, people! ;)

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