you keep telling me to just let it go,
take a breath and let it go
but i cant. it's not that easy.

i can't do this, put myself on show
for the whole world to see.
my flesh is still too raw, red and bloody
from wars long past,
words that cut to the bone,
bruises, and betrayals, and death
and i cant let go.

i cant.
i just cant.

to let things go, you said, you have to remember
you must face your demons.

well i'm not that strong,
and if i go there, start down that road,
i may never come back.

an: my therapist wants to try a new approach to therapy, one where I tell her things through writing. this is the outcome, raw and real and unedited.