Mom says I’ve gotten colder with the years,
But weirdly, I’m flooded with emotions.
And somehow, the big sobs in my childhood bed
Can’t compare to the stray tears that fall from my adult eyes.
My feelings have grown with my body,
But have also been shoved in it,
Engraved in my soul,
Yet still, not in my words.
Maybe I’ve grown accustomed to that shell—
It feels safe,
It gives comfort,
More so when vulnerability feels like punishment,
Opening up, like a crime.
And when burying it all gives relief,
Temporary or not,
Fighting still feels better than giving in.
Jan 19, 2025
Jan 19, 2025 at 8:28 PM UTC
Mom says I’ve gotten colder with the years,
But weirdly, I’m flooded with emotions.
And somehow, the big sobs in my childhood bed
Can’t compare to the stray tears that fall from my adult eyes.
My feelings have grown with my body,
But have also been shoved in it,
Engraved in my soul,
Yet still, not in my words.
Maybe I’ve grown accustomed to that shell—
It feels safe,
It gives comfort,
More so when vulnerability feels like punishment,
Opening up, like a crime.
And when burying it all gives relief,
Temporary or not,
Fighting still feels better than giving in.