Sometimes

How I feel sometimes..

Sometimes the cut is too deep,

wounds bleeding and wide open.

I am not proud of them, never that.

Bitterness is my failure. I take it daily,
feeling its poison seep through my

veins like a drug. It is too costly to

be nice, like the taste of slow torture,

your tongue tracing the salty tracks

made by the tears that fall down from

my face. Some things betray me, catching 

heart in a vice. The scent of freedom's

a thrill, caught in your gaze; the freshly

mown grass under my feet; those days 

by the river, buzzing with dragonflies, 

flitting in a whirl of business and wings. 

This is how it is now, me keeping my 

distance, watching from afar. What is 

best, safe and comfortable, or caught 

out on a limb? You did your work well, 

giving me your pain at the start of my life.