I wrote this poem a long time ago. The wounds were too fresh to want to share at the time.

It’s easy for me to talk about hard times from the past, once it becomes a story. Once I no longer feel like I need help or I’m drowning or I’m in a place of weakness. I’ve noticed that lately as I’ve begun to crawl out of the emotional hole I hid myself in after some devastating family stuff occurred last month. I’ve begun to open up to friends a bit more.

Though this poem is from—geez, a couple of years ago? I’ve been cleaning out my basement throughout the month and have decided in regard to old art, it should either be shared, the materials repurposed, or it should be trashed. So here’s to getting this poem out of my notes app but away from the bin.

Talk about the Grief
You’re not fooling anyone
please, hand it over
trying to protect Yourself
hiding from what is offered

no concealing it
exhaling Your emotions
into a thin balloon
taking up space quietly
Crowded. no more room to breathe.

We can all feel it
latex pressing against Us
sharp bodies, nervous
pressure sure to make a POP
tension thick, cut it away

accelerating
freeway getaway. You can’t
run from the troubles
yet You press the gas pedal
engine roars loudly, We tense

pushing away all,
salt on the rejection wound
how can We love you?
this balloon suffocates Us
a fragile, leaking casing 

harming the Children
acting out, different ways
You’re oblivious
stuck in muck of unshared pain
can’t see what’s in front of You

picking up pieces
Balloon knocked it all over
Alone, in your wake 
i’m already there for You
let me hold Your hand, Your heart

i think to myself
“let me in or leave.” baggage.
the others just left
instead, You build this damn wall
phone scrolling, faraway stares

too close for comfort
used to interstate distance
they got up and left
You, arm’s reach, yet not with Us
unfamiliar chest stabbing

my icy fingertips
placed into Your hot palm
melting into You
i’m here, You know. still Alone.
silence separating Us

Taking up all space
that balloon, no room for more
intermittent joy
playful laughter smothered 
when can We breathe safe again?