I know that you are strong
in your endless carrying
in all my doubts about the world
I know you can handle anything

under the weight of it all
you stand steady still
but please listen when I tell you
you don’t have to die on that hill

just because you carry well
with no complaints or protest
doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy
darling, you deserve some rest

You used to believe in dragons, when you were young. Used to make them come to life. After midnight, silent keyboard tapping built entire worlds.

Up the stairs of your own building where they also always lived. Almost shaking grabbing keys, unlocking doors and switching lights on. Attic smells as you puzzle boxes out of way, in the corner, dark and barely lit. You grab the right one. You sit. Leaning against dusty walls. Get comfortable.

With almost reverence you untie strings holding cardboard closed. Not opened since, since you were there, with them. With your hands, carefully flattening, every yellowed piece of paper.

You read. Some out loud. You know them. Never really forgot. Some read walking back and forth. Some softly sung. Some tugging on old scars. Some naively loving in a way you wish you could. Some screaming to be loved in a way they didn’t know they would.

You hold them to you. Wipe tears, old and new. The worlds you built once. Undeserving. You’ll take them with you.

You used to believe in dragons. Now you believe in you.

images of people
are always limited
reality always messier
than one photograph
no matter how well portrayed
messiness never shown
and chaos never imagined
as any more real than
a temporary state
of the journey to the real goal

true connection
nothing to be dismissed
as much as any force fed image
of its nature is
the all consuming something
more and less tangible than reality
no more than a lie to keep us trying
no consumer motivated reason
for the constant sandpaper
to ourselves
will make it less of a betrayal
to that childhood dream

one day, I will not fear
one day, who I am will be seen
one day, what is my good
will be appreciated
as much as I am able
to imagine and more

if only I am able to not be myself

when all is said and done
and all has been resolved
there is the ease of resolution
no more tears to bawl

all is said and done
all the words were said
all the questions asked
all the pain been bled

now you go on living
get back to your life
pretend that nothing happened
ignore the scars, there was no knife

and when you think you’re able
when at last, you’re back to you
there is the faint remembering
you realise you’ve been lied to

the cuts were self inflicted
that’s what you’ve been told
the boiling water poured on you
had no intention to ever scold

but there was a knife and there was water
unfamiliar knife rack and a kettle
in your home they’re not, mental images
held by hands not yours, unsettle

it doesn’t matter anymore
not relevant the truth was spun
you’re meant to have moved on
when all is said and done