Here's something you might be interested in.
Some nurse old scars as if the phantom pains were real
rather than figments of a tortured imagination,
limping through life as if the bone
hadn’t long healed
straight and fine,
feeling worthless as if they weren’t whole and true and good
as ever they had been before harm had dealt the hurt.
Others more naturally possess a genetic hydrogel
that minimizes the tracks
of their trials
distinguishable from the wrinkles wrought by time.
We are all, each of us, aged maps with stained
trails of brazen adventures and smudges
of ill fated choices, of torn
dreams and smothered
hopes,
of ferocious fantasies and pulsing passions. We are not so different,
you and I, rocking our fragmented innocence in the velvet
depths of darkness, humming New Moon lullabies,
seeking the soothing wholeness
of a comfortable acceptance
from among a galaxy of stars, thinking love
a comfrey infused salve, the place
above and beyond
that which lies
within in.
Some nurse old scars as if the phantom pains were real
rather than figments of a tortured imagination,
limping through life as if the bone
hadn’t long healed
straight and fine,
feeling worthless as if they weren’t whole and true and good
as ever they had been before harm had dealt the hurt.
Others more naturally possess a genetic hydrogel
that minimizes the tracks
of their trials
distinguishable from the wrinkles wrought by time.
We are all, each of us, aged maps with stained
trails of brazen adventures and smudges
of ill fated choices, of torn
dreams and smothered
hopes,
of ferocious fantasies and pulsing passions. We are not so different,
you and I, rocking our fragmented innocence in the velvet
depths of darkness, humming New Moon lullabies,
seeking the soothing wholeness
of a comfortable acceptance
from among a galaxy of stars, thinking love
a comfrey infused salve, the place
above and beyond
that which lies
within in.