As I kneel on bloodied knee
Aching soul
Dusty particle whole
Invisible self rising
Broken words
Scratching nails
Remembering the tall tale
Scattered family photos
Quiet daughter
So skinny and frail
Burgeoning migraine memory
And the touch
That just
Was not there
the wound that bleeds is the wound that wraps the past miseires round the fingers and lingers in the back of ya mind.
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