Scrape Wisdom - Hot Cross

«This is what you owe the dead.»

Again and again

Tendons stretched and strangled

Face poured flesh from head

A Family’s ties are mengled like

Mother falling out of dead

This is what I know:

Blue faced efforts that fail to reveal the color of her shadow

My sense caught in a stone’s throw and cleaner slates

That keep track of all the baggage I tow

Scrape wisdom of the tomb

Early morning scars from masks shed in favor of never, or is it forever?

A mourning lost to secrets I’ll never erase