Monday, February 24, 2014

There is strength in being seen.

I see you standing there
with a mouthful of poems
yet a head full of doubt.
You are soft yet softening,
while needing to be split open,
and poured out.
So let go.
All the things that you've carried,
all the ways that you've drowned,
all the beauty you'd forgotten,
every flame burned out.
There is strength in being seen. 

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