Piece by piece
Needles repairing me
Faded from sight
Drawing a line
Crisscross the wound

Stoke by stroke
Strings pull the edges close
Sealing the gash
Healing at last
Here in this room

It won’t take much
To tear this all apart again
Sensitive touch
To save a broken heart again
Sometimes I slip
And bleed from all these scars again
I bite my lip
And go back to the start again

Maybe in time
I’ll hold together well
Toughen my skin
Harder within
Fend off the world

Stitch by stitch
Coming together now
Struggle to stand
For all that I am
Spirit unfurled

This therapy
To exercise my thoughts within
Is there in me
To reach out for a closer friend
So bear with me
The stains are all on accident
I tear and bleed
But one day all these wounds will mend


16 responses to “Suture

  1. Very nicely written. It is so true how hard it is to get past hard times. Thank you for writing it is nice to know I am not the only one who feels this way.

  2. They say that I’m too quiet
    No answers to the questions
    Too tired to even try it
    Ignoring their pitiful suggestions

    It’s a waste to ask the reasons
    That I base my every day decisions
    It really is none of their business
    So I don’t bother answering their questions

    My mind works on a “need to know” basis
    The question burning in my mind
    Is “how can I use the least amount of words to say this?”
    And keep my thoughts too far away for them to find

    They can’t be allowed to see me weak
    I can’t let them know I’m really human
    Can’t they see that I don’t want to speak
    I just want to be alone so they will stop trying to look in

    They say that I’m withdrawn
    And they don’t know what to do
    But I’m already too far gone
    I’ve run away with you

      • An outcry from a frustrated and annoyed introvert? :p sometimes I feel as a hermit that is made to be in the center of attention giving a speech. As if people don’t know how to deal with people that arent like them. Or even know that I just want to be left alone sometimes lol.

      • I love your poetry about the city. I think one of the reasons I love the city is that I feel like no one has anything to say about me. I feel I can disappear and go unnoticed, but can still go about my business. That leaves more time for a clearer head. I love to be in a city where I know no one knows me. 🙂

  3. i kinda hate needles and sutures. yes they use staples now but most time its the needle and the hand behind which does the magical healing art. keeping that rant aside and coming back to poetic earth, i see images of an operation theater in the past when there was no anesthesia, they used to do surgeries while the patient endured it all raw. i feel the pain of that heart being sutured and i hope that wish it would one day mend would become true.

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