From Up Here

I do have quiet memories,

I swear I do, I swear,

even though I ramble on

about the loud ones,

especially after a few drinks,

especially after I choose

to feel again on that day,

but their stories never suit my

need for drama in tale,

or the search we all have

to become whole again,

so I leave them for more

ordinary people,

who let one bad event

change who they became,

then I hold on to all the

bits that shaped me

into an amorphous blob,

as I float along the water,

retelling each horror just

a little different each time,

sometimes more subdued,

sometimes more relishing,

because I desperately want

to land on shore one day,

in a single, defined shape,

free from the terror,

weightless and drifting,

ready to talk about a warm

day in July or August,

or a boring holiday that

most people forgot,

where nothing happened

and I remained the same

~ by Shawn M. Young on March 28, 2019.

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