reborn in beauty

 

In moonlight old scars

slither across my heart,

silver snail trails, showing

the slow passing of time.

 

The weary frail creaks

of a hand as it slowly

turns the gears of time,

every slowed beat another memory

worn like an iron maiden,

clicking deeper into my being.

 

The sharpened teeth eating clean

every minuscule hope within...

Leaving only bite marks on dried crimson skin.

  

And I realise the hand turning the dial is mine.

 

The remains sift the ground,

circled chalk marks showing

dead moments, how they fell

and shattered again and again.

Silver drawn in moonlight.

 

And I scrub. And scrub.

But hurt never washes

clean in rain, just patterns the ground

In stained memories of pain.

 

The chalk scrawls where

sealed doors first slammed shut,

where my past became history

to be read about in a book.

 

I embraced the darkness,

I listened to what it said,

I felt every tear

and every blade edge.

And I struck a match of all my hurt

and with it I lit a fire,

out of which, embers of life

began to spark up.

 

I started to open up.

 

I allowed myself to feel pain,

I allowed the hurt, I accepted my blame,

I took the bitter pills along with the

sweet syrup of enlightenment.

 

And then as

moonlight washes away

and welcomes in the day,

a tide in the sky, waves away

yesterday and welcomes in today.

And the sunlight pours through old wounds.

A window opened and climbed through.

Rainbows flow from my scarred skin

bringing their colour into a world

reborn in beauty.