Old Wounds

If you wish we can sit together and talk of ancient wounds do you know mine do I know yours In the stories of our different lives what purpose would it serve these life long bruises that sit and fester in some secret corner their snippet of a picture a paragraph in a story you've never really read to thoroughly before If you wish we can sit together hash it out to discern the truth if you wish we can accuse each other without any concrete proof we can revisit these old and weeping wounds do I know yours do you know mine Shall we target the memories spin them how we want them to be paint them with our crippled brush turn every explanation into an excuse is this how it will be these ancient wounds do I see yours do you see mine And in this quagmire revisited where certain accuracy is but a fog shall we chase the ghosts pursue them through the maze of passageways down the inconsistent corridors of fact Shall we stab each others voodoo doll to find where the blood will run shall we demand there be agreement on from where these old wounds they have come Will we blame each other will we blame ourselves is the accusation more important than the resolution a bigger picture much too big to encompass our delusion These old and sorrowful wounds which nothing now can alter if you wish we can sit and open them those misspelt and tattered pages with their frayed and worrisome edges dog eared for their dictionaries which year, what day and when their never take a look circumnavigation shall we take a look do I know yours do you know mine