history

you may think you have forgotten
you may think you have healed
you may think you have forgiven
but your dreams remind you
of a brewing past.

a silent suffering

as if a merry walk
would exorcise me
unwitting to the speeding vehciles
and throbbing traffic lights green
i proceeded down the road
all the way down the road
with my demons perched steadily
on either shoulder.

half full

to hurt is (fortunately) to heal

unapologetic vulnerability

I deleted the orignal poem that was here about my ex boyfriend
he is ancient history to me
no beef though
but I couldn't bare to keep a poem about him
so without shame here is a better more concise one, still keeping with the title:

We've all loved and needed an organ donation

We've all wondered why and grovelled our knees raw.

Thankfully, we've all moved the fuck on.