Uncover the Sun

Unwounded


It might be

a stiletto of words

thrust directly

into your heart

 

It might be

the casual indifference

of someone

who professed to love you

 

It might be

promises

spoken,

then broken

 

It might be

the gap between

what you do for love

and for money

 

It might be

loss after loss

of whatever or whomever

you held dear

 

Whatever

has filled you

with that hard, sharp, dull

blade of despair

 

Whatever heavy

weights your shoulders

and crowds

your mind

 

Whatever has happened,

it isn’t you,

it isn’t the heart

you were born with

 

It isn’t the you

that delights

in sunsets

and mud puddles

 

It isn’t the you

that creates

as exuberantly

as any child

 

If you reach inside

deep, deeper still,

there you are,

yourself, unwounded

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