Flammable
I gave my sorrow a name,
A face.
It smothers me 'til I jar awake.
Without the pain:
A moth without her flame,
Lost and out of place.
I lie alone and wait;
They told me it would be ok,
The lie I never forgave.
Flammable but still the same;
The haunted wounds; the violent blame,
The scars that never came.
Everything I resurrected is gone,
Everything I burned healed wrong.
The grief went on too long;
The dark is where I must belong.
Copyright © Jessica Vh | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment