A sad sigh
Escaped her lips
As tears stream
Down her pale face.
Fighting back
Painful black memories
That strips away
Any self-confidence
And self-esteem.
She can feel it
Creeping along
Ever so slowly
Like a dark shadow
On her soul.
Whose touch
Burns a hole
In the soulscape
Like acid does
To a metal ingot.
Cringing
As she runs
A mental hand
Over the pox marked
Landscape of her soul.
Feeling the jagged edges
Where the corrosive touch
Landed on her soul.
She reminds herself
That these are
Only pale echoes
From a past.
No longer
A part
Of her daily life.
Rather
A flashback
To how things were
In her life.
So easy to forget
As daily life pressures
Seems so overwhelming
At times.
A fact
Every so often
She needs to remember
When the darkness
Threatens to consume her.
As she moves forward
In the recovery
And healing
Of her body and soul.
Therisa © 2018
Author's note: For the past four days, I have felt like I was drowning in the darkness of my past. As my life seemed to orbit around bouts of tears and not being worthy of anything. During the two days that I have taken to write this, I do feel some of the pressure to lessen. Thank you Venus, Squeak, and Star.
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