There is a festering wound in me
That I must confront, that I must see
But it’s as if my mind is always running
To escape the lurking presence of sorrow,
As if it were a monster, always prowling,
Seeking to disarm my carefully composed resolve
To face the unbearable without truly breaking.
I don’t want to break
I don’t want to collapse
I don’t want to give in
I don’t want to hurt alone
I don’t want to let the darkness back in,
But if I cannot allow myself to be vulnerable
If I continue to flee from possibility of pain,
I will never truly live, dear soul, I will never survive.
So I will do what I must, I will lean into sorrow
As if it were the warm, welcoming shoulder
Of my kindest, most beloved friend,
Without shame, without fear,
Letting myself fall apart
To piece back together again.