Remembering.

Have I been putting
band-aids on the wrong
wounds?

I trace my fingers
along my scars,
reminders of the past
always with me.

Countless stories and memories
run through my mind
where I was
should have been
could have been

Now I know
I cannot fit
in those structures
without losing sight of
myself.

I breathe in.
the pace of everyday slows
for a moment.

The way towards healing
a path, twisted and uneven
appears.

The origin of those wounds:
years of not believing
what I knew to be true and
lacking the language to express it.

I need salve, not band-aids.
I crave understanding, not solutions.

I need the softness of sound,
the caress of light,
the ease of touch.

I peel away old skins,
gathering new dreams.
I remember
myself.

– from 2015.

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4 responses to this post.

  1. I absolutely love this! It’s beautiful. ❤

    Reply

  2. beautiful poem. Well written too. XX

    Reply

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