Healing isn't the easiest thing for me to do. I've tried to find it in between pages and rib cages. In loud rooms and the quiet of racing heartbeats. In poetry and rage. In that space between childhood and growing pains. In apologies that I refuse to give and all the love I never took. I am a container for my words that lose meaning if I say them out loud. So I write them down. I write all of it down. The changes of heart, the weakness in my knees, the one eternal autumn where I learnt to be whole. Take it as you will, healing is all I have to share.