The Marks

Each word you whisper is an imprint on my body 

but it never seems to last long enough 

Each touch turns to a bruise when you are no longer there 

Tattoo this skin so I have some form of permanency 

An inkling of where you have been, so that I no longer question its reality 

Permeate each delicate layer 

 

There are moments of sheer clarity

Driving through winding dark streets with your hand in mine 

Music blaring and our friends in the back seat 

Wondering what we must be thinking when I reach for you over the gear box 

And intertwine myself with you 

Such simple contact but I crave it

From someone who hurt me the most 

 

I want to heal 

but your hand on my thigh still tears me apart 

I want to find someone who can truly love me 

who can invest in me 

who can fight for me 

 

still 

I am desperate to lie in this mess that we made 

and allow the scars on my body to be visible 

in what is often an invisible world 

◄ Storm in a Teacup

Ghosts Passing in the Night ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message