More
thoughts are spinning
in my head.
I’m literally knitting
bone to bone.
Each mending stitch
carrying me forward;
each throbbing pulse
a reminder.
More
thoughts are slowly
forming and decaying.
I know I’m chipped,
that jagged edges
exist beneath the layers
of paint I applied so carefully.
More
thoughts are lingering
longer than expected.
I could count on one hand
the number of people
who have peeled away
some of these layers.
I fear sharing, letting people in,
because I don’t want
to hurt others
with my own aching.
More
thoughts are settling
deep.
I don’t like *this*
because it feels sticky,
sticky and sad and fill-in-the-blank.
Yet, I know it’ll work out,
taking some unknown direction.
We’re all just navigating, right?
So It Goes 