No amount of love
Could form an ointment to heal
These scars on my chest
Not even your words
Can unravel the stitches
That I had to sew.
Even voodoo dolls
Had never seen such torture
Inflicted at once.
For I must heal wounds
Because I know I'm afraid,
They may re-open.
And these fragile bones
Will crumble into mere dust
Lost in winds of love.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC
No amount of love
Could form an ointment to heal
These scars on my chest
Not even your words
Can unravel the stitches
That I had to sew.
Even voodoo dolls
Had never seen such torture
Inflicted at once.
For I must heal wounds
Because I know I'm afraid,
They may re-open.
And these fragile bones
Will crumble into mere dust
Lost in winds of love.
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