There are parts of me lost between the pages,
Tried to flip through to disguise these wounds.
I find solace in the words written without notice,
A little healing seeps through, a gentle, quiet progress.
But it makes me forget what I deserve,
For my stories are hard to read, and my wounds still bleed.
They remain strawberry red, a constant reminder,
Of the healing yet to come, the journey still to wander.
I hope for courage to wrap around my heart,
For light to beam atop my head, to heal and never depart.
To guide me through the darkness, to lead me to the light,
To help me find my voice, my strength, my will to fight.
Comments
Post a Comment