The Weeds We Wear

So much skin, old

Shedding shedding a shroud

Like a snake would abandon the clothing that warmed identified and covered him.

Like I would walk away from a friend and another friend that I thought would cover me

From storms

From fears

From the plague of idle boredom between college and married.

And it may be the loss of a simple coat that may be replaced.

Or it could be walking away from a snail shell home

That covered me.

And new skin must grow.



And I hear the crunch as I walk away from bits of me, or you, or the past,

Or a simple returning of dust to earth.

The walk forward leaves things behind

Ever forward.

Ever treading on bits of the old

Thoughts, memories, and joys that I fear will not repeat.

One Comment Add yours

  1. I absolutely love your words. Especially the words in this poem. You, my dear, are inspiring.

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