I've found the key, but it doesn't fit the lock.
I've rattled this cage to make dents and see that as progress,
But I'm just as stuck as when I was born.
Maybe I'm shattered beyond repair.
I've been gluing myself back together,
But maybe there's too little fusing--
Too little for someone to love.
Too different for someone to relate.
Healing means people leaving, which means being left behind.
When they leave, they don't look back.
No comments:
Post a Comment