The hardness of this world
for a tender soul
no gentle corner to rest.
I found an echo once again,
sweet, kind enough to listen
But when the voice began to fade
the silence drowned upon like no before.
I longed to sing beside you,
But your breath was short
How hurt I am from the wound,
dried decades ago.
How the blood that was here once,
still wet.
How's that every scar I see,
reminds me of mine.
How's that every new strike,
Only falls into deepening the old.
There were roads we never took,
ages we never shared.
So many possible lives,
where this wound
might have learned to rest.
But the wound never learns.
Time does not pass there,
just around it.
The skin closed.
Only to reopen when shaken.
and the pain...
arrived each day
as if nothing
had ever healed.
