and i’m not ready to continue, i’m ready to bury these ashes and forget, forget, forgetMature

We harbor oceans in our bones like secrets behind our teeth
but neither one is going to save us, not from the fires and
not from the hollowness we feel underneath our tongues
when the door is still echoing from the slam and our hearts
are still vibrating with the screams that won’t pass our throats.
We are just damaged people holding ourselves together
with tape and careful placement but every time we loosen our grip
everything crumbles back into the mess it was when we found it.
They tell us to find ourselves but we’ve only ever found destruction;
we’ve only ever tread over ashes and soot with bare feet
hoping that if we scrape it all together it will heal itself in the morning
but morning is not a promise of healing, it’s a promise of continuing.

The End

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