Non-Erotic PoetryTo Bridge the GapTo Bridge the Gap
They’re there forever
the criss-crosses on his wrist
to remind him always
of the freedom he gained
away from the sliced pain
that lists death
in his mind, bending
memories until they bind
the past to the present
destroying all semblance
of a future designed by degrees.
The cuts will bare proof
that his heart bleeds for brothers
who left him behind
with only a furrowed brow
and a blade
to bridge the gap.
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