Comfort has an edge

Comfort has an edge

It comes with conditions

Slicing through old scars

Razor sharp observation

Of the familiar

Cutting through mangled defences

Hastily erected

As self protection

Rusted in place

Barbed and twisted

Tearing at soft flesh

Stripping a memory

To the bone

Every object

So delightfully revealed

A weapon

Of destruction

As the mind meanders

Of its own volition

Through history

Attempting revision

But never winning

That particular war

Never sure if you

Were a victim

Or survivor

Taking solace

In the knowledge

Something of the past

Will always prick

Your conscience

Lance the boil

Bring you back

To the beginning

With the hope

Of a different end

Pain free,

Knowing it will never happen

Outside of daydreams

Will never stop

The futile search.