Sutures

Sometimes,
my head fills
with anger, festers
toxic wounds, scars
scab a paralyzing fear;
I feel like my inner seams
are ripping apart.

That’s when
I take pen to paper
allow myself to bleed
onto the page, let it seep
into creases to form words
and the poetry stitches me up
helps me heal.

~ J R Turek
June 27, 2020
Hour 8