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.