Stop Touching Each Hurt
I heard silence in the cobwebs
of your soul
while everything else walked
as if lost
inside of the belief
that all you see is black and white.
Then, I watched you crawl in search of truth
among faces with eyes
that held the illusion of everything
you think you want in life.
Your fingertips seem to know more
about your emotions
than your tears do
because you touch each hurt
your heart mentions
until they bleed.
I watch you pause,
and look over your shoulder
for yesterday
almost as if you wish
it would never leave.
I wonder if you will ever learn
how simple
the feel of your own skin
could be
if you would just not let anger write its name
on your walls carelessly.
Perhaps then, you could see the sunlight
of a brand new day
and accept the shades of gray
that color me.