I feel the walls closing in around the soft places of my heart
Unwittingly, without permission, as if by unconscious command
Whether to protect or to derail, I know not, dear soul,
Only that the corners of my mind still connected to hope are fading
And I am powerless to this unwanted fate.
Maybe it is better, in the end, to feel the gradual numbness grow
Than to succumb to a pain unlike any I have known
The sharp void of of knowing the truth, the inescapable truth,
Of my own flaws and losses combined into one perfect storm.
Eventually, healing will catch up to the fragmented heart pieces
Generating a battle-worn version, a guarded hologram of me,
Finding myself again in the hidden maze of life
Still soft, still loving, but never again the same.
The Therapy of Words 