Wounds

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Wounds

Precious particles left behind
From the dusk of a thousand days past
Encircle me
I’ve come to find one single shred
Of the you I lost so long ago
I’ve seen all those things you’ve chained
Since my departure
I’ve cleaned your finger nails of my blood
Will they find whose done this
Who has placed your head in my cold hands
Climb out of this trench
Leave me here
Not in self pity but in glorious self destruction
Leave me here so I can inflict a wound so deep
My heart refuses the surgeons healing knife
Wrap your body in the absence
Of my ambience and claim an anonymity
From the atrocities you’ve accompanied
With anguish and anger successfully accomplishing
An utter breakdown of all that I am

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Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

erriczhade’s Poems (20)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Somebody (full) 2
You...I...? 0
Wounds 0
Worth 1
Where I Thought I Belonged 3
Under No Control 1
Tricks in my confussion 0
The Love Letter 1
Somebody 0
My Seduction 1
Where We Hide in the Mourning Mist 1
Imposter 2
Immortal !!! 0
Eternity 0
Dreadfull Addiction 4
Disguises 3
Dancing With...? 3
As we Gracefully Fell 2
About The" Author" 2
Content To Be 1