Scar Tissue – (Poem for a broken heart)

miranda_john_william_waterhouse 600


I remember only living at night, unable to differentiate the real;
To wake was pain, to sleep was pain, to forget was horror;
And to remember was pain…
<>
But as a child, I always picked at my scabs.
Sometimes they bled again, but seeing the new pink flesh was
Reassuring. Is this what I was doing now, in remembering?
<>
How many times have I heard the adage: what doesn’t kill you
makes you stronger? I always thought it seemed somewhat trite,
but now find it intrinsically real.
<>
How much stronger then? How much more torment?
Nauseated with supposedly ever-empowering ache,
I lean on the looming horror of forgetting…and invite it in.
<>
In the fog I search for an essential component of me that’s missing.
Like a ship with no rudder, forced to go where the wind dictates.
My only solace is to drift unprotected and pray for calm.
<>
I’ve seen you, tumultuous sea, suddenly give up the fight
Joining hands with wind and clouds, to settle the waves.
Should I lay down now, allow death’s arms to soothe me?
<>
But as I wait, I feel that with each wave my pain recedes
from deep inside I gather strength to raise and meet a hostile world
I turn my back and leave
<>
I can face the world with strength from hardened scar-tissue

Collaborative Twitter Poem by:

@Permabloom @Jdubqca @Brudberg @MyVogonPoetry @vivchook @afcoory @troublegummer

Painting by John Waterhouse: Tempest

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: