Wounds
What to do
when bandaging your friends wounds
make your own scars ache and burn.
Promises to darn that sock
were kept even after you left.
Long tear filled nights spent
weaving closed the holes in the sole
I hope she is able to be completely free from him
in a way I’m still fighting to be from you
Doused the sock in lighter fluid
more than was needed
and watched it burn
the patchwork on the bottom was pink and green
It was some of my best work
Watching my sister scream out in anguish
over the lies of a man
my only offerings being a shoulder
and promises of hope
of freedom from pain
I wanted finality
but I still can’t sleep
scared of your wrath
being expressed by another
4 thoughts on "Wounds"
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Wow. Just wow.
Thank you 🙂
Great metaphor to anchor this poem of caring.
“Weaving closed the holes in the sole…”
Or “soul.”
This is beautiful.