It’s too late to take away
The scars that burn beneath the skin…
So hollow in the scorching sun,
A moment brings it back again.

A memory burned upon the pages
Buried ‘neath a dusty binding…
Crawls into the dreams of sleep
Forever constantly reminding.

Winter’s chill felt in July
Or summer’s heat that melts December…
Mixed emotions tied with ribbons,
Thoughts I’d rather not remember.

Stirred below the surface of
The pool of tears cried long ago…
Where wisdom silently emerges
Urging me to let it go.

To finally look with sages eyes
And without blinking face the fears…
That ate away my self-esteem
Left decomposing all these years.

To rewrite pages closed too soon,
Upon the ink still dripping wet…
While adding chapters to the book
That doesn’t have an ending yet.