The work


Why do I feel so guilty?

This focus on me.

The work to become who I’m meant to be.

Peeling back the scabs and reopening the scars

What isn’t mine?

What is of the stars?

Underneath is an unbroken child

True love and dreams

She was born of the wild

But the world told her no

Her voice became quiet

She defaulted to rules and shame

She did the right thing

And feared when she didn’t

To never dishonor her name

She whispers to me through all of the noise

And debris of stories told

I am.

I am.

I am.

Her voice echos below and I am torn

Between the guilt of trying to break free

Or the guilt of leaving her behind

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