The unidentifiable healing of nighttime

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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 start tomorrow with disbelief

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