Written by Tansy D Gunnar
Poetry is hard because my mind and heart are encased in bricks.
My voice is muted behind an imaginary wall.
Feelings and thoughts close inside, where they remain.
I clutch onto my sacred pain with calloused hands.
The poem wants to pierce through the hardened exterior and haunts the wall.
Chanting, knocking, chipping away.
Skillfully excavating the shattered pieces left of my soul,
No longer to be restrained.
Text © Tansy D Gunnar
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‘I clutch onto my sacred pain with calloused hands.’ This line literally tore my heart out, it hit so close to home. Bravo!