It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
Rose Kennedy
US wife of Joseph Patrick Kennedy Sr. (1890 – 1995
Shattered Glass
Time is only but a number.
And all wounds stay the same.
They tie you down, and force your eyes open
Force you to look in the eyes of the snake.
Your world is painted on the canvas of sea glass.
Written on the palm of your hand
To them, only time will tell
But to you, time tells all.
You cover up the pain, you wear a tight smile.
They do not see the salt water tears,
They only see what they want to see.
Time is only but a number.
Ghost girls whisper and tell their secrets.
They spit their poison into your eyes.
Blinding you from seeing the light.
Time is only but a number.
The dead girls walk your hallways.
Convincing you to take the path untaken.
To speak the words unspoken.
To leave the endless darkness
No one can help.
No one can save you.
You speak the language of midnight.
And the poison stirs inside you.
They thought the pain was gone.
But it was only hidden from view.
In the darkness of the forest.
You cry soundless tears.
The shadow’s eye’s glint, their white teeth flash.
You submerge in the water of whispers.
After a while, your breath is lost.
Like the glass world you skated on.
Time is only but a number.
