The cuts are deep… ravaging my skin, cutting open revealing the grief.
It’s stored, its held… it’s tender, it’s hard.
Opening the gates to feeling… brave soul you are. Monstrous waves washing all clean. If you make it out alive.
Words are hard to find… they rise up in sensations. My body guides me… the only voice I understand.
The rest confuses me. What I see and what I hear don’t often meet.
The cuts are deep… bloody, sore. Depths of pain rocking me to sleep. Some I need to keep afar… not brave enough to come face to face just yet.
Then there are moments… out of the blue, or is the galactic pool of wisdom… they descend.
Mind’s blown by what appears.
The only me I know… is the one deep inside me. All the rest… like a slide show reel of passing movement… was once and are no more.
Yet I breathe… I’m still here. Miracles happening every day.
The cuts are deep… am I brave enough to allow? To face the grief, the sorrow. To love myself through the confusion.
As lifetimes pass… all shapes and sizes. Different faces. A multitude of places. Moments pass… days, weeks, months, years. A lifetime. I’m here… I breathe.
The cuts are deep… do they have a purpose?
What do they reveal? The spark of truth that keeps me sane.
The cuts are deep… they move me to a place unknown, unfamiliar… yet me inside there all the time.
I let go and I am taken.
I am strong… the cuts will heal. I never forget myself… never ever.
I never surrender what I know… as solid as the ground I walk on.
I pull on courage from all my helpers.