Right now I’m wayyyy too tense and it just occurred to me
that it’s the perfect time to write! So here goes:
A fresh wound, now crusted over
And almost forgotten-turned into a battle scar instead.
Now when it is healing the gash is opened again to the biting air-
And water flows through the cracks of lead.
The cracked, dry, thirsting ground is perhaps quenched at last,
Or the possibility of the flood gates opening appears-
And all being lost to its tide.