The unidentifiable healing of nighttime
Although your hurting hands are healing bad memories fade with every touch receiving that unidentifiable feeling for a part in me, it can never be too much I notice the shadow on the wall its a contour of me and I’m alive feeling the need for pain, it is not my call longing for that moment of truth to arrive As the sun goes down, the shadow grows I never learned to embrace the dark the time I get confronted with my sorrows and try to reach that itching birthmark In those moments of not being in control healing adventures, awakening forgotten pride during that uncomfortable passage through my soul a hollow and empty past gets reoccupied Tears are drying, self-interest a dying moon the afterglow of pain feels like a morning sunrise there are no big shadows of me at high noon only reflections the world doesn’t recognize Tonight I’ll search again for hurtful times for marks of touch, the outcome of relief as they are my elusive reason to be reborn not having to