Day 257: Holding Hurt

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∴

the more i get to know people,
the more i’m aware of all the hurt we carry.

hurts are all different sizes and shapes and colors
and they impose different weights.

maybe we lighten their loads for just a while
when we explain them
or say them out loud to others.

it’s as if taking them out
of our hidden selves
and into the light
melts them a little,
like layers of ice in the sun.

even cliffs and glaciers crumble.

what’s more,
they melt faster when they’re
broken into bits.

·

sometimes,
when someone is telling me their hurt
i play this secret game:

while they speak,
i collect every hurt that comes out
like catching icebergs
in a bowl,

then i take all the heat that lives inside me,
like love,
and ignite myself.

should i cry,
my tears pour like lava.

should i laugh,
my voice spills like sunshine.

should i remain silent,
my witness becomes a hearth.

and the bowl of ice
turns to water
that we could both drink
and be nourished by.

∴

 

 

 

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