Gifting the olive branch
Began a war of words
Bitterness griped my opponent
Stiff as starch without recognition
How could any of this apply to me
Closed off
Perched high on the tree of self righteousness
A glance into the attic
Where the baggage is securely stored
Holds fear of the mighty kind
Enormity beyond understanding
To open up this bulging over packed
Sack of sorrows
Would surely be a blow
Too far, talons clawing and grabbing
Until our flesh is raw
Forcing our hard shell apart
So the never ending packing
Repacking
Folding and pushing it all down
Ramming the lid shut
With all our might
Continues
Only for the metal that holds
Our secrets expires
Leaving us with nowhere to go
Reaching our demise sooner than expected
Unless....we can admit what is real
Rake through the immaculate
Facade, delving into cracks
Crevices we'd buried so deep to be
Forgotten in our conscious mind
Subconsciously withheld
Until it fights its corner
Boxing clever, meeting us
Head on
Sobriety House, Inc.'s photo
Quiet are the days when we can speak our truth, come to know our frailties and be accepting of them. Allowing ourselves to hear the truths that lye within another human being, be it different from ours it does not matter, just the pure acceptance of the part we play is all we can consider, reflect on and learn from, growth is a wonderful thing, bittersweet sometimes.
When we speak our truth consequences are inevitable, getting to know who we are is vital to begin the construction of another day, a foundation balanced enough to keep us healthy and well. If we can look into our soul and know we have tried, given attention to all sides, perhaps we then can sleep soundly.
A little deep, I know, but hey............
LAURA
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