Words stab and leave invisible wounds —
Wounds that don’t bleed, but ache all the same.
What you don’t see, you may never know.
What you don’t feel, you may never understand.
Your words are blades you wield without knowing.
And I — I’m the fool who receives them, smiling still.

Some inherit money
Some inherit wealth

Some inherit houses
Some inherit heirlooms

And some inherit trauma
Passed down generation by generation

Trickling
     down
           the
              family
                   line

There's no value, no significance
Just a void, just a wound

A blight passed from parent to child
A scar inflicted from parent to child

It's a debt owed for the gift of life
paid in pain, paid in blood

Generational pains are standard
a reminder of who came before

If a trauma cannot be healed
it is passed on

The mantel will be pass,
and you're next.

To be born with more
means to grow receiving less

To be born stronger
means to grow with less care

To be born smarter
means to be left unattended

To be born with more
means to survive on your own
because you don't need help
you are enough on your own

But you know what will never be enough?
a love that was never given
because

to be born with more
means to be loved less.

A gardener once had 2 two seeds
they planted both in the same soil

one was healthy and robust
the other, weak and frail

Pitying the weak seed
the gardener gave special care

It was attentively fertilized,
watered meticulously,
weeds picked out regularly
sunlight regulated.

The gardener watched the weak seed
crying as it finally bloomed after all the struggle

Rejoicing, the gardener turned to the healthy seed
but it had never sprouted.

Second place is satisfactory
except in a parent's heart
2 is less than 1
because it has 1 more burden to carry
1 more empty void to spill from
and that's why it can never be 1.

I see
double, pairs,
twins, couples.

yet

in the mirror,
I see one.

Body entwined in burden
heart cold from solitude
mind numb from pain
a weary soul trudging along

my gaze turned inside, tired of looking out
and I saw a small flame
barely visible in the dark depths
it flickered

on
off
on
off

I stared in wonder
at the beauty of the light
against the darkness it was enclosed in
boldly dancing despite its fragility

on
off
on
off

perhaps the sun...

the flame roared to life

perhaps the sun never left me
I had forgotten where it was.