Monday, February 23, 2015

My War

My body is not my own
I share it with a darkness
that clouds my vision
and knows my every weakness

My mind is a battlefield
where dreams and nightmares wage war
where solidarity means death
and my skin keeps the score

My heart beats weakly
against the poison that's inside
although I still bleed red
part of me has died

My soul is a patchwork quilt
a Frankenstein's monster of my being
its scars tell a story
one I now know is worth repeating

My body is a temple
with the walls caved in
but I will be here waiting
for reconstruction to begin

(Written 2.23.15)

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