my skin is the fabric the world unwinds
I have late night drives
I have early mornings just trying to survive
everyone now deserves to be diagnosed.
mothers cringe at therapist, at doctors, at the money
the jail time for stolen needles
to stitch the rips.

if you tell someone that they have no right to complain
eventually you won't hear it anymore
they lock it away and become scared to speak
in fear of their own selfishness devouring them
resulting in another hidden face.

people stop crying in front of others
people stop feeling in front of others

people stop feeling anything at all.

to all the fathers that loved their daughters
and hugged their sons close
to all the mothers that did their best
and provided the life they never had

there is a type of love that the world needs,
stitched in in the skins of your children.
maybe the world can just learn to
feel again.