There is no stain
No varnish
No mountain blue paint
That can cover these wounds
Polish the pain
A good ol cleanin
Cleansing with bleach
Of my soul
Washing away the fear
The shame
That taints my destiny
Is a welcoming reprieve
These slow drawn out breaths
Of peace
Allow for space
Within the complete unrest
In this splatter scatter mind
The ripples and bubbles of soap
As I wring my hands
Of the past
Caress my fevered face
Splashes of water
Wake me from
This blistered and broken
Place
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bipolarfanatic 
Loved that. Love the words. I can relate and feel the pain and I too know that kind of pain and know needing and wanting to cleanse myself from the pain and the shame etc. etc…… I have been there way too many times as well. You have a gift of combining words in a beautful way to feel deep emoiton That is what true and good poetry is and should do. A round of applause for you. Sue
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Thank you so much Sue for the kind words.
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You are very welcome. Hugs, Sue
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