Wounded Poem by Lisa Arnold

kiss my wounded mind
make it whole again
it's got a bad bruise
that's festering, so, baby please
treat it kindly

trust in the process and
believe in the impossible
pretend-to-be dream
they always telling me about

soul is running on empty
searching for the unreal
trying to shut out all the clatter
called doubt and embrace faith in self
but it all will only turn around
if my belief is still on the real

I'm through debating
the blatant and the obvious
got to make my life's work
worth the sacrifice of this
three decade's long mirage

around my wrists rests these
imaginary rusty chains, got to
shake em loose and so do you
yeah, I see you wearing them
too...the scars and scratches
these wicked chains have left
yes, you are wounded
just like me


©2018 Lisa Arnold