When I allow myself to think

of moments from the past

I can still feel the shockwaves

that they have left behind

long ragged scars

that remind me of

elongated shimmering comment tails

some of these thoughts

are unfocused and snowy

like old black and white films

these images settle over me

like plump drops of rain

on a cold autumn day

forcing me to walk slower

as if cutting a path

through a wood of tangled

branches were a few

stubborn leaves hang on

these scattered leaves

remind me of pages torn

from my journals

because I’d swallowed

the words not wishing

to read them again

during these walks

through my memories

I’m in awe that

my heart still beats

after its broken pieces

were once again assembled

through my tear blurred eyes

I notice my shadow

long and dark stretched

out before me

in these moments lost

in thought the shadow

seems more real than the body

my focus changes again

and I look deeper inward

and I see a woman disfigured

by layers upon layers of scars

like the dark scales of

a mystical dragon

whose fire was extinguished

long ago