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.