Another painful reality swoon
You can record in your journal
No superficial scar or wound
But the bleeding is internal.

I brush it off
And bandage it
And try to walk away.

Though standing up and
Breathing deep,
A role I won't portray:

Of a mended soul
A spirit cured
For I am bruised and broken

Embittered, yes
But rest assured
My limbs have now awoken

From a dreamless slumber
I have grown number
To overwhelming pain.

But I am not dead
You words can't kill
So I dare you:

TRY AGAIN!

01/19/2005