Internal Bruising
S
Sheena Blackhall
0
Altın Yaprak
I sit at the mirror and stare
An elderly woman stares back
I see behind what's there
The skin is pale and cracked
Beneath the skull, Thought's black
For Hope has been ransacked
The ribs contain a heart
Kicked out of touch by grief
It beats, though pulled apart
Outwards, there are no scars
Inside blood seeps and seeps
Memory's jugged and jarred
The tell-tale eye still weeps
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