Is it true that hurt builds a home
in you permanently, that it snores
away with no regard for the alarm
clock that getting back to living is,
that it reigns in perpetuity, demanding
from you taxes on emotions - spent.
Why is it then that we put ourselves
out there, vulnerable, prone to Judgement,
an imp with incorrigible appetite,
begotten to His Majesty's whims,
stumble on the path to healing,
that is looking for us with lanterns
in both hands.
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