The Process

My tennis shoes are dirty

From all the dirt I have been kicking up these many traveling months,

These many traveling circus months, during which I have found myself finding myself searching
All. Over. Again.

I would be hurt or worried or tense, and believe me
I most certainly
AM.


But there is a part of me that has allowed this to happen, allowed the wound and later allowed the scab to drape itself over me like a hand-sewn quilt patched from a mother's anguish and safe intentions.

However, that scab is becoming exceedingly uncomfortable,

And everything in me wants to scratch it,

bleed it out,

and allow it heal just one more time.