Every so often a word, a phrase, a name
splashes across my life
like a bloodstain
Like blood
like a stain
And I remember
And I am filled with remorse
At all the things I did
and all the ones
I did them too
And I wonder what I can do
or be or feel or say
to stop staining it anew
to wipe clean the slate
To be, in peace, in calm
in serenity
And I wonder
how long before
my actions catch up
my thoughts catch up
my feelings catch up
with my soul?
1 comment:
The sense of being hunted by my self.
Post a Comment