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Wounded

I don’t carry with me golden strings

of pompous words, nor an embroidery

of the  embellished locutions for 

what I carry in me is a bleeding heart

from where words gush out a greenish

pus from decomposing wounds forever

in loop for they never heal, as my brain

keep playing the same slapstick movie

again and again, my miserable spirit

trapped with in the grotesqueness of 

familial events, angered and then

sobered again!

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35 thoughts

  1. Dark, sad, painful, emotionally intense with vibrant and gorgeous imagery. Yes, there are wounds that never heal. And those that do become the everlasting scars that form the landscapes of our souls and bodies. A marvelous read, Tanya.

    • Thanks Count, aren’t the same incidents play in front of our eyes and make us feel miserable, as if we are in some kind of loop? Same thoughts which plague as day and night? I truly appreciate your humble reading!

  2. An emotional and sad plea from an anguished heart, your last few lines are painful,
    “trapped with in the grotesqueness of
    familial events, angered and then
    sobered again!”

    • Thanks Ivor, for your great insight! You got it right its an emotional plea of anguished heart. Sometimes we are trapped with in our toxic thought patterns , like a bad move which is on loop. Thanks for take out time to read my poem, truly appreciate!

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