Skin Prickles

Skin prickles,

Blood boils,

Barbs catch flesh

Tearing bits and pieces.

Words are arrows striking my soul,

Bleeding and angry I cry out.

Why…why does bating frustrate,

I promised it wouldn’t!

It would never be allowed to spoil me,

But it has once again.

Deep breaths, eyes closed, I must let it go,

Regaining my center,

Banishing my anger to the netherlands,

For my own sanity I must forgive

Allowing others to believe as they will.

They too are trying to find their way;

Looking for answers through consensus or conflict.

I must learn to accept this with a smile

Offering them nothing,

But love and silence.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~