We don’t erase the past.
It all just fades in place.
Working itself out
like infection,
purged from us
by our immunity.
Tragic and subtle suffering,
scars that laid on the skin,
like a latticework road map
guiding you
to the heart of me.
Did my deals with demons.
Earned every stroke of the whip.
No recompense for disaster,
I just grew up along with it.
The crack of bone,
the nights of terrorism,
all for some guiding light
of love I never felt,
just confusion,
in an arbitrary life.
Much older, now.
It seems that time
lets me ask questions;
will the answers suffice?
Could the cost be
too much to bear?
Suffer as a matter of course,
and then,
one day,
revelation.
No,
I don’t think
that’s how
I want life to be.
HG – 2021
🖤🖤💜💜