deepundergroundpoetry.com

Uncaging

 
She left more than just a few bruises in her wake;
no dust cuts better than a wind from nightmares
but you can't change in a day.

It's easy to run, to leave. Too easy,
but to start new with any resolution takes steady
bones of stone. Without this armour the weapon's blunt.
As I sit in the waiting room, index finger and thumb
looping her cold, night rain-washed wrist
she whimpers a routine sorry as the dust still stings my eyes.

The nurse calls her in, I watch them close the door.
I take my jacket and leave. No dust in my wake.
I take the cuts and bruises with me
as my steady hands button up my jacket
to walk the night's cold rain that will never relent.
Written by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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