I was made of holes
Words and ways of understanding poured through these holes
Resisting their names
Keeping me from the truth
One day I caught what was pouring out
I held in my hands and looked at it
Really looked at it
"This is part of me," I realized and I said it's name
From that day, it continued and continues to pour
And I have progressed from trying to catch all that poured out
Some of the holes healed
Some are covered with gold
Others are barely covered
And some never will
I have names and words and understanding
And sometimes it all feels so heavy
And breaks my heart in ways I wouldn't expect
For now I try to care for those holes
Resisting yet hugging the hurt that caused them
Wow this is going to give me something to thing about....the coming to realise that you can't catch the stuff that comes out of the holes....some things are just lost.
Thanks for posting this, it's thought provoking and comforting at the same time.
I know I am late, but can relate to the feeling of losing parts of you although I don't chase them anymore.
This is the part where I am supposed to reflect it back, I always struggle with this part of the comment.
I hope you are finding peace within the pieces you have left.