Lanced

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Festering, like fallout, memories
get locked inside the scars
time blows over a depression.
Stuck in a crevice and forgotten
until scrapes scour the rock
clean of yesterday to release
all that is rotten. Raw and bleeding,
the past exposed to the antiseptic
wash of fresh air. Now clean;
true healing begins.

  • COMMENTS
7 Comments
unpredictablebijouunpredictablebijouover 15 years ago
OW!

Nicely done, as always. You walked the line between being vivid and being metaphorical - it's a tough balance in a topic like this.

TzaraTzaraover 15 years ago
This is a good poem, Champ.

As others have said, it is a nice used of metaphor.

sassynycsassynycover 15 years ago
~

from the first word to the last, so much feeling packed into so few lines. your description of healing is true, indeed

AnonymousAnonymousover 15 years ago
Relief...

...is quickly found after lancing. Perfect use of metaphor and more so without over doing it.

normal jeannormal jeanover 15 years ago
so true

every scar does have its own memory, whatever type of scar that it may be, it is always good to get the healing started. Excellent work.

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