picking

images

Slowly circling around a hard place,
shielding me from the outside hurt

tempting, nagging, longing,
as I slowly make my way under the edges

undermining the fortress
and wading through the moat,

tearing off the armor
that covered my wounds

The stinging sensation
of the air that forcefully takes the reigns

staring at my accomplishment
cloaked in shame
As I bleed

Regret floods my soul

Dammit,
I wish I wouldn’t have picked that scab

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About walkercadillac

Deconstructed Elegance. View all posts by walkercadillac

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