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Kelli Feb 2018
You remind me of the callus on my ankle.
The rough patch of skin
where the tongue of my running shoe
rubs against my skin
every mile
of every day.

You are there.
I can still see you.
I can definitely still feel you.
Where i once was soft,
I now am hard.
Others can still see you too.
They just have to really look.
But your pain isnt as sharp anymore.
Sure, you dont feel good
and if you really pick at it,
the pain returns
and I bleed.
But the daily motion
of every step
over
and over
and over again
no longer completely demands my full attention with its agony.
Where once each breath was a knife through my heart,
there is now only a a dull pain.
Only a slight hitch in my breathing
reminds me of the hole
you punctured in my lungs.

But this callus strengthens me-
protects me-
guards me.
Strengthens me against future pain.
Protects me from the one thing
that has weakened my body the most.
Guards me
by reminding me
to never be too vulnerable
to the grinding of my shoe against my ankle
or the grating of your leaving words
against my soul.

— The End —