pain is not meant to be secret but shared like a meal before death’s door, nor is it meant to be whispered in secret like the silence of a whore. but my pain has become an open conversation a host with whom i walk into the expanse of my soul, and traipse through fields of memories some dry as sand and others fertile, rich as a whole forest floor; and i haven’t wanted to admit how the exhortations of old voices taught me pain and his accompaniment are then and now sideways friends, strange, brutal companions who make war for our hearts, endure scourging after scourging with us as our knees buckle it is pain that cleans the mind, as our bones ache it’s longing that binds us up, when our hearts throb and threaten to burst as the worst things imagined force themselves into action it isn’t only our reason, our logic, our largesse that calms us down, it is the violent silence of not-ever-knowing what is next, never knowing and always knowing you will never ever know what threatens you just around the corner, as knees tremble and bones ache and silence calls us to the one thing that’s too precious for us to pry open; our empty hands.
love this young man.....you are talented and i want to share this with all my new lady friends