Some songs have no name
written October 19th, 2020
I come back to the same theme
of pain and the past
manifesting in my present.
I have tried ignoring them.
I have tried fighting them.
I have sought therapists and seers
who teach me new ways to battle,
but what I fight and avoid
just seems to get stronger.
Forgive they say.
I WILL NOT
say it was ok
tell you to go peacefully to your death
with no stain on your conscience.
I try accepting
living with the demons and memories
the hurt and betrayal
where there should have been safety and comfort.
Will I die an old lady one day
still crying and hiding?
Will I find a peace of my own?
Can origami cranes and butterflies
fill my skies?
This poem has sat in my notebook for months. I keep wanting to make it something else. The last line came from a conversation with someone about the goals of writing. I struggle with speaking these things, or erasing everything except for the last 2 lines. Erasing the first part, erases a kay part of my reality, but I don't know what the resolution will be, and so the ending feels unfinished and rushed.
