Poem: Scabs
It is like a woundAlmost healed
Then I see your beautiful face
During the new month
And the scab comes off
I bleed a little more
Of the blood I share with you
The tears I shed
That I share with you
No one told me
This wound would never heal
No one warned me
I would ooze my pain now and always
They told me,
“Grief is a straight line,
Take the steps,
You’ll get over it.”
They don’t know,
Grief is a snake,
Eating it’s own tail
Slowly, never ending.
I just want the scab to stay
Maybe, eventually, it will
My heart hopes
My head doubts
My head says my heart
Will ooze pain
Until the end of time.
© 2005, Maja Hedman
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