My Mortal Wound

Written by: Kelly McDonald

Traitor thoughts return 
  again and again 
  to the blackened pool 
  that has become breeding ground 
  for my memories of you. 

Like fingertips to a deep gash 
  testing for tenderness, 
  waiting for healing, 
  impatiently scratching at scabs and scars.  

Loosing angry blood 
  from freshly clawed skin;
  pricking nettles of pain 
  into my defeated heart. 

Ripe with infection; never to heal 
  you have become mortal wound.