Bruises from blows.
That I touch throughout the day
To feel the pain once again
I should leave it alone
But I participate in this experience
Maybe I just want to feel something
I wonder, are they real?
Logic says they're not.
But in this situation
Logic has always failed me.
I look at the bruise
Green and purple and yellow
I think everyone can see it
But it's covered, most of the day
And few people know
That I hear them
That I talk to them.
If I could only heal
From the touch of God.
© 2006 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 742 times
Written on 2006-10-02 at 06:05
Tags Pain
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His Hands on Me
It's like a bruiseThat I touch throughout the day
To feel the pain once again
I should leave it alone
But I participate in this experience
Maybe I just want to feel something
I wonder, are they real?
Logic says they're not.
But in this situation
Logic has always failed me.
I look at the bruise
Green and purple and yellow
I think everyone can see it
But it's covered, most of the day
And few people know
That I hear them
That I talk to them.
If I could only heal
From the touch of God.
© 2006 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 742 times
Written on 2006-10-02 at 06:05
Tags Pain
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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