They're not the healing kind.
Torn from somewhere deep inside.
Forced into the world before their time.
The harmful kind.
Like being wounded by
a jagged peak in someone else's mind.
With grief that won't resolve itself.
In loss that just goes on and unresolved.
When even friends refuse to be involved.
Scalding hot and leaving scars.
Anguish lived and breathed and multi[plied.
Despair alive just on the other side.
A broken heart made real.
A life without the feel of loving moments.
Silence singing achingly into each sleepless night.
It all went wrong somehow.
And tears could never cry that pain away.
Knowing that he could no longer stay.
him beside her anyway.
Touching close with tenderness.
The way they used to play.
But his tears burned.
that shattered into obstacles.
Walking out for good.
Oh, how tears burn...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .