Suture My Wounded Soul
abused as a small child,
so meek and so damn mild-
innocence brought sadness,
in adulthood came madness.
daddy couldn’t put the bottle down,
he tried and failed many a time-
too many bruises black and brown,
falling back down every time I climb.
I was beauty and ashes combined,
a fake smile hiding my frown.
I grew up with that same mindset,
putting the pill bottle down was hard-
raging silence and moments of fret,
in the game of poker, I drew the wrong card.
my wounded soul, unsutured and scarred,
now I live in the shadows of ebony regret.
she just couldn’t stop the drink in hand,
suicide took her away from me-
I may never quite understand,
now her laugh but a sweet memory.
my eyes too blind to really see,
the death of my sister’s wonderland.
my injured heart learned many lessons,
my aches and pains have killed my essence-
lesions left abrasions and anguish remains,
and now crimson scars run through my veins.
blemished and battered left with scratches,
please Lord, sew over these dirty patches-
I needed an ounce of self-security,
but these wounds left me in obscurity.
abandoned by those who I needed most,
the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost-
forgiveness has been lost in atonement,
as I quiver and shiver in this chilling moment.
abused as a small child,
so meek and so damn mild-
youth brought intense woe,
now it's time for me to let go.
June 21, 2017
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2017
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