Ouch

Synaptic highways born of pain…
Ricocheting around my brain.

Savaged from joint, muscle & bone…
Red raw nerves screaming hurt alone.

Broken by stress, time & usage…
Spirit & strength bear abusage.

Stretched by prayer, hope & Mythos…
Respite barely known in Hypnos.

Healing settles in distraction.
Injured pain…mind’s first redaction.

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lbstowe

I see the world through a Painter’s eyes and process it with a Poet's Heart....it's quite a harsh place for the soul. It scratches and wears your true self down, at times, but the Beauty is Addictive. I feel for everyone I encounter. Everyone I encounter is a teacher if I'll let them be. I Empathize with everyone I talk to & I Think about Everything-LEVi

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