Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Every word you speak
is a spear thrusting
forcing itself into my body
wounding it, poisoning it
the wound overflows as tears
and as words on this page.
The memory of those words
comes back, again and again and again
Each time I replay them
new arrows create fresh wounds
they fester, they grow
A dull, heavy, deaddening weight
a load of lead
sinks deep into me
and settles there.
Scabs will cover the wound over time
and heal it partially
Smiles hide the tears
Light chatter conceals the pain
But the scars will always remain
The load of lead will always remain
They have become
a part of me now.

may 2008

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