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Scars
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Unfinished/Undesirable What is this grey and broken face I see
Old and faded beyond my own recognition
Who is this long-dead woman staring back at me
From a dust-kissed mirror of childhood forgotten
What laborious agony has lined these brittle palms
And creased the skin once so smooth and fair
What has marred this sad and ancient flesh
Elusive lines running away from anything and everything
Who has drained the beauty from this creature
Stolen the blood and life from open veins
Who has pressed the fire to the wound
Burns on top of burns on top of burns
Who has led this shell of desolation to her end
Left her there to fester and to rot in long embraced agony
What is this grey and broken face I see
It is me in self-inflicted judgment meant to be.
This is vividly and powerfully expressed. You words reach deep and pierce the heart . . . excellent! *hugs* Patricia