I scroll through old notes
From 2011, then 13, and 16
So much depth to my words
I can reach into the page, and touch my wounds
On the page they’re still raw
And they flush my entire body
Messages of empowerment, struggle, confusion, and heartbreak
As I’m holding the words in my hand I reach for those same wounds on my body
They’re no longer raw
Layers of scar tissue cover them
Making them strong, protected
And perhaps blocked
What are some emotions that I’m not letting myself feel,
For fear of opening old wounds?
What are some assumptions I can release
About the things so good in life that have brought me pain in the past?
I open up, to possibility, to love.