1-800-273-8255. It’s a number I know well. It’s a number I’ve stared at wanting to call. It’s a number that scares me. It’s a number that I wish I didn’t know. It’s a number I wish I didn’t have to know. It’s just a number. But it’s a number I’ve grown to hate.
My soul spoke volumes as it cried through my chest. Nothing would be so pure, so painful. Nothing like hearing the soul speak after years of silence. Hurt. Screaming it begged, to be set free, “please, let me go.”
Beloved, don’t be amazed by my inner weather It’s the calm before a sun - storm It’s my soul-corridor turning into an empty dorm hosting unexpected guests of revelation
The quiet of my heart-corridor Is an after-story of terror Of course, there’s a before-story
Of the ocean of me that was once a tsunami In it, was my death and rebirth It’s from the heart of this ocean-tsunami A world of words appear And I weave them