Time heals love's wound,
Truth seals it round.
I have reasons to worry
stubbornly I refuse to send mixed messages
~ a smile I might shatter
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
A broken heart has no hole, yet it bleeds,
So time will heal the wound your hatred breeds.
here, between myself and myself,
God dwells when
He flees the world.
I found Him once
in a forgotten loaf of bread
on the steps of a hospice,
in an old woman asking forgiveness
for simply living.
He did not ask who I am.
He touched my brow
and retreated back into the wound.
we do not think.
we defend ourselves from thoughts
as from a fire burning within.
Your words, a double-edged sword,
Sometimes pierce like an arrow's chord,
Other times, they surface like a wound,
Leaving scars that forever resound.
Every step, like shifting sands,
I walked, veiled, with heart in hands,
Through your streets, where complaints did turn,
To hatred's form, and love did burn.
The whispers of our home's demise,
Scattered like leaves, with fading sighs,
I doubt your words, O preacher true,
Tell God, from His throne, to intervene anew.
Thousands of rebellions rose,
Yet not a single movement showed,
The cups were shallow, I confess,
Friendships were fleeting, a moment's caress.
Waqar, I've survived the stormy night,
The bonds of blood, a wrathful blight.
Like a storm trapped in her chest
she moved in circles
footsteps restless
heart pounding louder than thought.
She had lived inside a lie
vowed to love through anything
clung to promises already crumbling
made peace with pain to feel something.
When dawn rose, it lit the truth
the smiles were masks
the kisses rehearsed, and yet, she stayed
not for love, but for the hope it might return.
She bled quietly
trying to piece together shattered glass
holding on to something
that had already let her go.
I wonder what I'd be like if you had loved me
As a mother myself, a friend, and spouse
If your love had stretched like branches of a tree
But I still keep your picture at the entrance of my house
She's the Samantha before you had to take life by the handles
The Samantha before you were consumed, as if by fire
So I ran to a Father who gave my feet sandals
And He gave me all the love my heart could desire
The scab is gone
The scar not quite so vivid
No more clawing to relive the pain
No more needing to feel again
The wound is nearly healed
Through delicate care
And careful protection
And through considerations plenty
The urge to reopen
To feel the blood flow
Has been replaced by a desire to heal
Yet I can't protect it forever
Rmeinders of you are everywhere
They make somethings unavoidable
Including the realization
That my heart still belongs to you
The wound is fresh
The pain so raw
Seems like it will never heal
As I cling to the thought
Of what might have been
As healing starts
Panic replaces pain
Scrambling to pick the scab
To feel the blood flow
The wound is fresh again
It keeps trying to heal
But I'm afraid to forget
To let go of the hurt
I need it be raw
The wound begins to scar
Time heals all wounds
I hear thats what they say
Why can't I let time
Heal what's wrong with me
The wound is all I have left of you
—it’s the black boil on bursting, boiling ribs—
on my midleft chest, brewing bungled churns,
[tighteningmybreath], again, again, it yearns,
it begs*, “just one (just two) more (well-earned) rub(s)!”
—giving in, it’s just picking at the scabs—
first brief relief( ):the itch at once returns
as soon’s the finger’s left the welt; it burns
and gnaws more hotly—awful pangs, sore jabs!
now, Doctor says I’d best not touch it if
I’d like to heal—“lucky to leave just a scar”—
only, I hate the texture of the crust…
why’s my mind got to be so god,damned,stiff?
though abstinence feels so blunt, so bizarre,
I’d like to heal, I give his word my trust.
A decade wearing you
like a cast
And all I have to show
Is that no
one ever taught me to
be a friend
I hold my heart in my hand
carved out off my chest with a machete,
My bleeding heart still beats!
3/2/35 03:19
I glorify men
Placing them high on a pedestal
Where my father fell short
The bar is in hell
And the bare minimum are the crumbs I live off
Satiated from nothing and empty promises
An illusion of fullness
As I see myself in half
As I saw myself in half
As I stand here with a void desperate to be filled
Take me served up on a silver platter
Ill intentions disguised as good deeds
And deflection paired with belittlement right on time
The light within me dims when I’m faced with their conditioning
And the fire is lit
Am I being gaslit?
I hook my claws onto potential
As my reflection bounces back at me
Disguised as I swim in the delusion of what they’re telling me
Words so loud and action rarely found
I abandon myself at the sight of basic decency
Taken away at birth...
Damaged to human touch...
So I don't like to feel much...
Me and my primordial wound.
I have a hole in my chest...
one that food, sex and drugs cannot sate...
so please don't embrace me unless you can relate...
to me and my primordial wound!
You say you don't see color...
but to you I'm still just another...
and you wonder why I search for my mother...
Me and my primordial wound!
You adopted me but ignore my issues...
so I rain down my sadness into tissues...
so to my adoptive family, I don't miss you!
Me and my primordial wound!
Sticks and stones may break bones,
but words can wound much deeper
words from someone you love
can cut deeper than any others
words like toxic and disfunctional
can cut as painfully as razor wire
However, love is special, in that
it can also heal those wounds that
are inflicted, if forgiveness is sought
but until then, the wound will fester
if you let it, but I choose to treat it
with the healing salve of a mother's love
and bind it tight with love and understanding
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