The Red Map

It is striking again,
That sinking feeling in the gut
And I am looking around,
Searching for that one memory,
Among numerous others,
that could possibly come back,
To haunt me this time.

As I open my old diaries, it all hite me harder,
Those shaking letters on the page,
The tears erasing the shadow of the words,
And the ink sliding down the border;
Thay would have otherwise
Secretly celebrated
my smile in the parallel universe,
Knowing that,
It took me every last bit of courage
That I had, to carve my lips.

Forming a conflict between what to feel and what to show.
 And as I turn the last page
 With a lamp on the side
 Illuminating the engraving of the words, that I had,
Left incomplete on the previous one.

Red colour trickles down my wrist,
Making its way,
Carefully not to mess.

With the last words that I've left
For the world ro read,
Forming a map
That leads straight through the path,
To a secret that lies buried deep in a pit.

Only to be deciphered by those
Who follow the directions,
And end up
With the red colour trickling down my wrist.

❤❤❤❤