the mending of a soul

hurt me please
“hurt me, please…” by nan lehnert
(was feeling a bit emo…may have gone over the top)

 

the mending of a soul

32 words

pierce my chest;

each word,

a dagger plunging, 

ripping at my heart,

but this time my heart it missed;

this time, you’ve cut my soul —

this sad mangled mass,

bruises of indigo, crimson, brown —

signs of damage, 

of a rebirth, now bankrupt;

this time, ah…not so lucky;

because this soul bleeds — 

and not with ordinary blood

that pours from a heart;

no, this soul’s blood is thick, steamy hot —

its silver-lilac liquid does not flow gently —

it oozes, then sputters and spits.

its rhythm, a frantic pace, afraid,

full-knowing of a wrecking damage;

one which has tipped the scales.

and, when it heals,

if you can call it a healing,

its lilac will turn to indigo,

shaded with dull brown and deepest crimson.

it will take on 32 oz. in weight,

yet it will feel 32 lbs heavier —

because this is how a soul looks and feels,

when a soul tries to heal.

~nan lehnert, 2015

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