The Wishing Well

My Unexcused Life


She fixes her eyes on that distant well,
shimmering bronze and blue stones in fading sunlight,
the water, she knows, is deep, dark, cold;
hiding the flames of Hell.

Hiding torture, pain, insanity,
shame remembered clearly,
smoldering, unrealized desires burn her insides,
as deeply as always.

She fixes her mind on those, unable to drown the voices,
screaming memories and disappointments aloud,
shrieking failure in her ears,
forced to listen, transfixed; she cannot turn herself away.

She lost everything in that distant well,
not believing the signs that came,
the well that drowns all she wishes for, longs for;
hiding the flames of Hell.

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