Twisted Wrist

trun my scarred wrists towards the sun, see where the shackles of shame once hung. bare my flesh and count the flaws where guilt gnash with sharpened claws. Remove the slippers from my hesitant feet,where molten regret scorched with blazing heat, pull back my hair and with your fingers, trace prints of palmed remorse, adorning my face. do not consider this my tale of woe or call for pity and sadness to grow, instead look to lessons learned and time gone by wings that formed with feathered pain to fly. Each score that lies across my body and soul created the woman that stands before you.....whole the past has made me who I am, I'll not ask why to deny the facts would ne weaving a tarnished lie. I refuse to hide the reasons for who I've become, I'll not cover them for the absorption of anyone as I live on...day by day the past will live within, but never will I allow it to excuse my every sin. so i ask you now to view the scares and imperfection. the fingerprints of my life...unmasked for inspection just as you wouldn't shield your chilled body from the sun, don't protect me from where I've been...or I become no one. so with that said there were times I wrote to exorcize demons, they haunted my past, invaded my present and threatened my future. The words, pulled from my heart and separated from my soul took on a life of their own. They blended and muttered thier shades of emotion into a veil of understanding that could be worn by anyone.