I will sit with this hurt
I will pour it a drink
But I won’t get drunk
I turn it over
I observe it
I remind it
That I walked in here
And I will walk out
—
I clean my hands
I leave the table
I have to move forward
I have to stay in the race
This is temporary
Life is too short
To get hung up
By hurt
This shadow of myself
It’s part of me
But it does not define me…
Soon it will be in the past
It will not be grey
It will not be overcast
It will just be another day
In the year
I will do the work
I will grow
And I will leave the table
Being better for it.
Love this