A shoulder
To cry on
An arm
Around me
Uphill
Downhill
A cloth
For the bleeding
A patch
On the wound
Of my
Disemboweled Soul
These are just
Some things
That come
To mind
When I look
At you
The need
Is becoming
Higher
More acute
The pain
Increasingly sharper
As if you
Again and again
Scratch open
The crust
That should be healing
Living with
A man
With autism
There are no
Words
To describe it
These words are
Only clichés
Or things
I so need
With the life
Together with you
But when I
Could describe it
Could this be
Soul ache
© KH
Blog about my scribbles. Short stories and poems in English. Because my first language is Dutch the grammar might not be all that's cracked up to be, bear with me...
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