Some choose to keep their mouths glued shut, sticky and scorching,
fighting against their lips to whisper out the secrets they hold inside.
Some prefer to sever those stitches and let the heavy words fall out,
without letting the bloody wounds heal first, without waiting for a mend.
I am more so the second than the first,
because I feel that being honest with yourself and with others about your pain
not only feels as if you are cleaning your inner traumas with your tongue—
like when you were a child and you sucked the blood from a cut—
but it is as though you are helping to faster heal your confidant’s lacerations—
like a wild and loyal wolf would do for its pack mate.
I open up my heart, no matter the amount of fluid that flows from it,
because I hope to guide you out of your own dark tunnel.
You are not alone, and that is the word I wish to spread.
State your stories, spill your secrets, sing your suffering out loud,
and watch as others feel the confidence to do the same.
