Dealing

I'll admit it,

I'm not dealing.

My wounds aren't healing,

From this place where I'm kneeling.

The scars are vibrant.

There will be no concealing.

My many gashes and slices,

Are far too revealing.

Every new wound,

Leaves me reeling.

I get stuck again,

While the blood is still congealing.

You don't seem to care,

That it's my fate that you're sealing.

You don't mind at all,

That it's my soul that you're stealing.

The sting is awful.

It sends my mind wheeling.

Scorching my soul,

Leaving it blistered and peeling.

This icy despair,

Is such a forlorn feeling.

I've spent far too long,

Waiting to break through glass ceilings.

I don't know what to do.

I'm not dealing.

I keep getting back up,

But these wounds aren't healing.