Owl Poetry & Prose
Bleeding Days…
Jul 18, 2021
Some days the gut is just pulverized to a point where it’s wrenching
From the inside out. From the very depths of the soul
For it is heaving and griping in pain for what was and no longer is
Or can ever be
Never. Never was this feeling so bad
Yet it is what it is and in time or so we say, we heal and deal
Dealing does help heal but not always
The memories wisp through the mind and the tendrils just latch on
To the scars to the hurt and gouge out the very fragile little beating soul
Beating it a bit more almost in mockery
And some days that pain is not human but it never really was, was it?
It was metaphysical. It still is and it will always be
Or so it feels
On some days…
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