Two decades plus aged in numbers
Yet scars so deep tell tales
that would bring one to slumber.
Ritual or curse, a story so fierce
Scarce
Just want to hide and disperse.

Always too kind;
Pause, time to rewind
Focus bitch focus
back on the grind,
with time, tIME, TIME
It'll soon be yours to shine.

Deep malodorous lesions, canvas,
to compile what now remains of a heart
Cleanse these wounds,
Please
Free me of this stench;
suffocating.

Purify my thoughts,
that will remains,
that faith prevails,
that lust evaporates,
that pain dissipates,
that love resurrects;
then,
let peace resonates and joy found at curved crevices stimulate my desire
to live again
to love again
to trust again
to believe AGAIN.

© Monique M. Goldson