Poems of my Mind

The scars run deep

From a trauma long past,

Woven through with threads of hate,

Held shut; never healed.

The respect I held for you

Shattered in an instant

When you left me.

So young I was

Treading on shards,

Tiptoeing,

But still they cut.

Anger, a coagulant,

Held my blood back,

Boiling and pulsing beneath the surface.

I stitched it shut.

It's funny how simply conjouring up an image

Can bring it to view in reality.

Because there you were.

Alone, as I had pictured.

Though I did not draw my knife,

As I had wished,

And take the revenge I had supressed for years;

An eye for an eye,

A scar for a scar,

But held my head down

And let you pass in silence.

Your wish granted,

Mine reserved once more.

I turned, deja vu to five years hence,

And watched you walk away.

The stiches fell open,

My wound bled out,

For you did not look back

Again.