Dwelling on fingerprints'
indentations of time spent
caring for life.
Each touch was a mark:
good intentions left behind,
memories crashing like hailstorms.
Hurtful admission attest to
blood seeping through the hearts
of those who cry.
Storm broken windows
was my insight to hellish reflection's.
Voices took me down, highs invaded peace.
In itself, we wonder how being shitfaced
happily can take peace?
My fingerprints left false hope wrapped around
the bottle.
Becoming enemy to self.
Matters not now what i have touched
for in this day....
I impart nothing, except pieces picked up,
mended carefully by the very hands that
tried to ruin.
Sobering rebirth,
change of heart,
redemption became my tissue~
softly tears were wiped away.
Capturing the winds of peoples' love
uplifting my sails.
I ride the next journey,
leaving traces of my heart upon your skin--
not my hands, but my words in hopes
of a moment like this.
Look to the horizon, we can see
two happenings like life:
the sun setting or the sun rising.
Each has its own folly or hope.
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
A courageous write, one I shall bookmark. Thank you for sharing!! 
-your entire write was gripping- it had such depth and emotion in it -'Sobering rebirth,'-'
This simmers and then boils over with strength. 
