Scabs
A wound from decades past revealed,
There is no going back.
The cut is as fresh as yesterday,
There is no hiding it.
Water and air offer to help,
The bandage is worn thin.
In time a scab begins to form,
Softly covering the abysmal hole.
The situation, though not linked, is undeniable.
A swift kick to the gut.
Blame is assigned and shame floods back in,
The scab is off.
Reeling nightmares of self-doubt,
A wound reopened.
What to do? Where to go? Helpless.
Nauseous pleas with the divine take over,
Begging for a new scab to usher the way.
Hopeful for true healing someday.
