Don’t Let It Rot

Close your wounds.
Close your wounds.
Do not let pain feast on neglect.
It was never fate,
never written in the stars,
never carved in stone.

Pain sprouts where healing withers.
Pain drinks where love forgets.
So tend it,
tend it now.
Starve the ache,
and the ache will fade.

But some wounds,
ah, some wounds,
are sacred.
The wound of love.
The wound of care.
The wound of friendship.

Do not bind them.
Do not cage them.
For once they’re covered,
they sour.
Once they’re silenced,
they decay.

Let them bleed.
Let them bleed.
For bleeding is proof
they are still alive,
and life itself bleeds
to remain whole.