Love In A Time of Rain

It's silly to leave your peace in the turmoil of calloused hands
Admist the grooves of dried up blisters piled up on themselves from labours of love
Labours through guitars, drums or bassed undertones
and yet you find yourself trudging through the mud to be held in those hands
The laying on of hands should heal, be the shawl that wraps you in feelings of solidity
So why are you shivering in the cold?
Is the journey the alms you must pay to stop the tick that makes you rub your female scar?
You know the one..
The one that you've always had and seems ever changing
The one you get the first time you are made to truly feel the weight of your gender
The one that itches every time you are counted among this number
The one you brandish as your induction..
So here I am soaked to my knees, rubbing at my scar,
furiously determined to get where peace waits.

Comments

  1. BrokenStreetLight15 January 2016 at 00:00

    Hm. I may not be privy to the workings of the female scar as such but I feel your pain by proxy of the potent lines.
    I'm just glad it's not love-making in the time of rain ;'D

    ReplyDelete

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