soul-searching


Carving the words out of me
Until I spill my soul out
In bright red droplets
That form letters on the tile,
When I look at them
With tear-blurred eyes.
The truth, the truth,
It must be somewhere
Buried and hidden inside
I must slice deep, deeper
To find that shining prize.
And then summon the courage
To survey the gory beauty,
Of a soul that’s carved clean
Of irrelevance and sighs.

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