Therapy (Poetry)

Buried way too deep for saying —
my tongue is tied too tight for praying
and there it lies —
the weight of sorrow
a blight that damns each thin tomorrow

The ache still raw — the wound still weeping
this well of pain continues seeping
and nothing helps —
long years don’t heal
the crushing sense of loss I feel

Oh, life goes on — my grief out-dated
but hope’s grown frail — half-suffocated
it’s hard to breathe
or train a thought
when memory intrudes — unsought ...

Now therapy’s a yawning page
to soak up stress — the ink-blot rage
of cruel abandon —
help denied
I cut more words and bleed inside