to whom it may pain

i understand the woman who will look me up and down to judge my clothes, instead of thanking me for holding the door. i will cry for her and her adolescent years being long gone.

i'll feel my mothers pain as her eyes well, but only behind a closed door. i'll feel it and lose sleep.

when the sun eventually rises, i'll love the yellows and oranges that enter my window and touch my face so lightly, even though it's a bit blinding. and i'll love my dogs tiny morning snores.

i'll hate my memories of you. i'll hate the pain you left in me. i'll hate you. for a moment, i remember it all, then the birds. i hear the birds.

i love listening to them sing in the morning.

i wonder if one day i'll be able to love and feel and live, without a day going by where i'll remember. what day will i be reborn again and healed?

for now, i'll love all things that are beautiful, i'll continue to let the sun peak through, and i'll listen to the birds sing.

◄ winter as a person

me from afar ►


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