Some days I'm o.k.
In fact,
some days,
dare I say,
I'm more than o.k.,
I'm ecstasy herself.
and she allows me to forget
a part of me is
dying.
Then, there are days
days like today
and yesterday
and the day before that when
after disrespecting that forgetting was my sole pain-killer
and testing the infliction of my memory,
I'm forced to acknowledge
that
underneath my poorly nursed cloth
and bandaid
after all this time
I'm still bleeding.
YOU ARE READING
22 & Learning Poetry Collection: Curiously Beautiful
PoetryBeing vulnerable is one of the scariest things any human being can do; to unfasten the armor reinforced by a lifetime of difficult lessons, strip down to nothing but the fine curves of one's existence, and bare the scars of the soul in the sincerity...
