Healed not Mended

Many things remain between the truth and the lies we live
Just like the cut that goes through the heart
The cut that can’t be mended.

Healed yes… but not mended.
As it will remain.
The waves of the sea heal, the mist of the mountain heals,
A long conversation with a friend heals
But nothing can mend.

For the scar remains pricking a little every now and then as we brush past eachother
Balancing the act of unaccustomed strangers and entangled souls.
The tension of being close enough to reach out and touch
And the pain of dejected trust hidden in measured smiles
An acquaintance of a different kind

A cruel contrast of the heart and mind…

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