My wounds will encompass your soul
Slowly you’ll evacuate.
You’ll detach from me as an untethered soul,
A heart waiting to be broken
Aching to feel something, to have your own wounds to place band-aids on.
To pass to your own child
To laugh, to smile or cry
We’ve felt it all
We pass it on until we’re distant memories
And pictures that hang ignored
We hide our truth like stories from our past
Yet, we carry them in our bags
We spread them throughout the world.
Placing our pain and joy in empty corners,
Imprinting ourselves onto other people so that we’re not forgotten so quickly
I fear everything because I’m sure of nothing
Yet I told the story as if I knew exactly what was going on
But truly, I’m figuring it out.