Revisiting Old Wounds Damp familiar smells penetrate the church, edging their way in like the proverbial double-edged sword Thick, melancholic mist cloaks the bell tower, Chiming remains uncovered The humming slices each second into tiny bits of nothing Muffled echoing shrouds the silence Piercing shrills and faint applause in the distance drive fear to the surface And so the tears spill out over my existence Salt and bitterness dance together on my tongue I?m left in the silence, tapping my feet to the rhythm