HEALING WOUNDS

Compassion edges out hatred and bitterness

In our newly discovered brown world

Where what we were before is no more

Where many tears replace the flares of anger

Where forgiveness is only an ideal we can aspire to

Where love is buried deep in a fertile earth

No longer for him but someone yet to come.

 

Still my heart is swayed by his multiple, frightful plights

Hoping he can heal a tortured spirit after a wounded body

Wondering what I can do to help even though I remain hurt

Even though he broke who and what I was before

Some for the better, more for the worse

We may never even talk again as friends or anything else

But the fiery hatred is ebbing away

Instead, I am drawing from a past of loyalty, commitment

To reinitialize my working memory to one of caring. 

Speaking to a deeper part of both of us

With witnesses shaking their heads

What fresh madness is this? To hate savagely–

To visit the hospital on truce, bring flowers, a card lost…

A letter, money from one who will not even call

Because there is nothing more to say but get well

After near death and life-changing alterations in bodily integrity.

 

Still I pray that he can heal from the many wounds

Even as I purge myself of the ugliness and am reborn

To the witnesses as a better creation in spite of the never-ending pain.

His physical wounds are the manifestation of my emotional ones

And neither of us will ever be the same anon. 

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