Bruises
Bruises poetry stories
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groothugger
groothugger poetry/short stories/prose/etc.
Autoplay OFF   •   7 months ago
a very personal poem about growing up

Bruises

Bruises dark and raw,

The only thing that’s wrong

With this world, the earth,

The only thing I feel is worth

A tear or two on a silent night.

This blue, black, red on white.

But slowly and subtly,

The lampshade shifts, hovering.

That expensive soft light

Has no return price.

No convincing myself can change

The way the world is arranged.

The bruises fade away

And nothing’s quite the same.

It is bright, and it is dark

When the bruises lose their mark,

Nothing in the middle,

Everything once large now little.

And in the end, nothing lasts,

The past just stays the past.

And bleeding is the least painful

Part of war, the most faithful.

And falling is just part of tree limbs.

And bruises are just color on skin.

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