If I told you
I wanted to rip my skin off
I don’t know
How you would look at me
I can be naked
Not vulnerable
Know that when I say this
I have already
Been tearing myself into little pieces
It seems I have been trying
To get the words out
For a thousand years
My throat is full
Of all the things I did not say before
I sit here at the bottom
Of a hundred mountains
I will never climb
A hundred birds come and tell me
Of the beauty on the other side
I ache for something I will never see
I am too tired for the journey
My feet too weary for the path
My bones will not hollow themselves out
I am still empty
What a weight it is