Bruised Soul

I bruised my soul on your jagged heart
In a fall I thought I’d never take.
I never dreamed, nor could I have ever imagined
The love and memories we’d make.
I struggled over mountains, thrashed the thickets,
And ran doggedly into trees.
I emerged scathed and scarred and saddened,
But unbroken and unbowed on bloodied knees.
Now my hands are tougher than before,
My wits calloused, roughened and hard.
And the love that once ran thru my veins
Has all been spilled onto a sympathy card.
And you, who has met the depths of my soul,
And cast it aside as scrap,
Who scored a notch into my life,
Who set, ensnared, and trapped…
You have refined your technique to an art,
Born of a bedrock of untruths,
Plucked, pillaged, and plundered,
Warily plotting your every move.
I cannot see what lies over the peak,
Nor say I will not plummet again.
But now I carry carabiners in my pack,
And survival instincts sharpened within.


* de - march 2001