deepundergroundpoetry.com
Open Wound - Part One
Part One of a Series
I am an open wound.
Not in the sense that I am a WOMAN and I menstruate to breed life into the world...
I speak in the sense that the trials of past diligence has marked a never closing spot that will forever reflect my life in its mark.
The word never speaks an eternity to mean that I WILL NOT FORGET…
Forgiveness isn’t a mandatory notion that states I will not speak upon, but merely a gesture hat lets you know that I am functional once again.
I am an open wound,
I bleed when there is no blood spilt, a plight of intangible nerves and twists of muscle – pulsating life – reminding me that I – am – ALIVE.
History isn’t written on my body, nor is it a determination of my future.
My soul speaks in curves through the hustle of ones words – trying to find meaning beyond what my ears hear.
Hurt breeds my emotion, pain is the result of injury – staring at the mirror I see my history.
A long line pain and stress trickled with glimmers of happiness when I thought I was free.
And still – a open wound.
Published 4th Oct 2016
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