Bandages

I feel like these bandages are sewn onto me, never to leave. The cloth soon turns into my scars.

The pain has settled in, never to leave. Only my eyes are open to prove that I am still conscious.

Rushing tears turn to blood, but they don't trickle, they flood. They flood in heavy waves that don't ever drain.

I have no one to blame except myself for this undying pain. Yes, the truth sinks in deeper than the wounds do.

Now the linen grasps tighter and doesn't cease. I'm lost...in my own self.

This misery I have soaked up with rotting cloth has become the greatest mystery I know nothing about.

Reviews

[I Am Svetlana]

I enjoy how powerful this is and the message you convey. And I'll be honest and say that it's okay to sometimes not understand our misery or the source of where it comes from. It's such a mystery as to why misery hits the most creative souls and yes, many lose themselves within it...it's heartbreaking. I remember losing myself when my misery came, it took so long to find myself again, but it was sure worth the fight!