What if?

What if
I don't have the strength
To stand in front of another man
And say
"Here it is.
See the scars?
See the bruises
and the dark patches?
The parts that look
deflated?
The parts that
may never heal?
See what it is?
A swirly
gushing
overactive
bleeding,
leaking
exhausted muscle?
This vault of the dreams and needs
of those who came before you.
Who promised to take care of it,
and instead
poured in their pains,
their lies and their fears,
and took all it's
vitality and
warmth,
until it almost collapsed.
It's a mess.
It is healing.
It is still beating,
because it is absolutely
unstoppable.
But it is very fragile.
So, do you want it?"

What if I can't do that?

August 27,  2016

As I continue to heal, I am slowly posting old
Poems from the past year. Especially as they become more and more a part of my past.