Fix Me
If I could put the world to rights,
It might just end the sleepless nights.
Cause sleep is there like dust in air,
Or like a passive dreamless stare.
And so I drift on down the line,
Evading thought, escaping time.
Yet still I wake with scars to show,
An iron grip that won’t let go,
The skin is torn with flesh to bare,
And so I wonder what was there.
My own, the weapons used to harm,
No need to sound a false alarm.
So close those eyes and wish away,
Another painful long lost day.
For every time the worst was thought,
Elusive fears, left uncaught,
When, if ever, would it end?
Wounds created, allowed to mend.
(2014)
