Raw Wounds

I peel back

exasperated , dwindling skin,

Stripped of emotion

Reduced to ash and snow

And how could I Know?

The raw, sensitive temperance of the soul?

What yanks at our reddened heart strings,

Shushes our eagerness at bay,

Ushering this open wound,

Soft to touch,

Oh, how I loathe this wanton feeling,

The rising of this chest,

Is far too much

These wandering eyes

Land on such grace,

On possibility and love

As the wonders of space

It grabs hold of me

Pushing me to chase.