![]() burrow inside myselfA Poem by thelauraslate![]() This is a poem about dealing with my past as an adult, and how it makes me feel.![]()
When I am alone I burrow inside myself.
Not neatly folded, carefully pressed and flattened into a recognizable shape like a treasured letter. Instead I crumple and wrinkle. Hard lines and sharp angles. Jagged edges and deep rifts. Ready to be torn into pieces. I sit blank faced, immobile, mostly. My hands give my secrets away. They fidget, pick, and tap. The hands of a small child. My mind races like a fugitive. Making haste through a murky past. My anxiety, my fear, my shame. I do not trust myself alone. Maliciously, it digs up the wost the terrible things I try to lose. It transfers the hidden to the forefront. Disregarding my attempts to gain control. I become a paralyzed hostage. My thoughts hold me captive, slam me down, rape the weak soft parts of my soul. I am transformed, just like my hands. I am small and insignificant. I am ashamed and embarrassed. I am a child without a hero. © 2012 thelauraslateAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on June 25, 2012 Last Updated on June 25, 2012 Author
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