Sunday, April 14, 2013

Day One

It’s jagged and pointed and sharp

and it is insisting on being known.

It’s been here before

and I know it all too well.

We’ve danced this dance many times

to this haunted melody.

A singing choir of ghosts

lined up on each side of the room.

They seem to be coming at me

from every direction I turn.

I am feeling the pressure

feeling the inevitable sting.

I can’t seem to escape

the constant deafening hum.

So I am trying to create a song

that I can sing over it.

I know why this is always the hardest part

exposed, raw, broken, and feeling that pain.

This is time when I am the weakest

and it would be so easy to go back to it again.

But resolutions have been made

and I will just sit with this.

I will hold my own hand

since I am the only one here.

I will wrap myself up

in the safety of my bed.

I will cry to let it out

I will let the pain release.

And let the tears fall all over

Winnie the pooh.


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