Four

Four


Pain injures deeply

 where love has already found

an entrance, and no insult can wound

 as acutely as trust breeched.


Sharp emptiness throbs at my bones.

 “Don’t touch me” they cry, 

“but hold me tight”. 

 Longing for comfort, yet grief weeps alone. 


“Ask me back, though you have no right”

 I feel the shifting war in my soul.

Pain pushes and love pulls,

 as discernment struggles to enter the fight.  


Perhaps not a villain, 

 nor the author of cruelty, outside my mind,

but not yet my heart's friend again.

 I’m sure my feelings and reality will intertwine, in time.





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