If I let the pain sit inside of me it just rips away at my muscles and leaves bruises on all my bones.
Instead I resurrect it from the deepest parts of me so it can leave,
Find somewhere else to live.
I let it live in my hands and my art
And I let it release through crying in theaters, watching you enjoy me, and screaming into my pillow when I feel angry.
I let it travel through me with music that gets put on repeat until I'm sad, then I turn it off and move on into everything else.
I see it through windows looking at strangers, with their dogs and their babies. With their hand holding and their phone scrolling. Their headphones in tight and avoiding eye contact.
I wonder if other people notice it too.
Sometimes I picture all of our stuff just floating around eachother,
All of us choosing to be oblivious to something that is connected between each of us,
Like cans on a string.

Sometimes,
Someone pics up the other can.