Random thoughts of my empty room.
Under my small tin roof, abandoned space.
Sheltered hurt no longer hides.
Raindrops seep through the rusted ceiling.
Water washes and uncovers the feelings. Wound now open for me to see ,extensive the damage has been.
The gash seems small, but the jagged edges do not allow for a clean close.
So I leave it open, I leave it open for all to view, vulnerable cut just waiting to heal.
But it will never heal, not when the scab keeps getting picked on and new raw hurt resurfaces.
And so it hurts on.