Archeology of me
Feb 05, 2021
Rooted here
In my upper stomach
A seed.
As my power
Expands
It grows too.
Generating a
Current
Of heavy emotion
Doubt.
Intolerance.
The anger of
Violation.
Come
Little seed
Unearth yourself
Come into
My sun
To be known.
In the hole
Where you
No longer rest
An old
But now fresh
Wound
What happened?
Are you okay?
No.
Yes.
This world can be
A terrible place.
I hear you.
Anything else?
I don’t know
What to do with this
either
Let’s just sit
Together
For a little while.
Strange
How the passing of time
Fills in the space.
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