i walked through some memories tonight, and it was ok,

just kinda like wading through some cold dark place, no flashlight,

things locked away

i try and try to lay it down

and each time, it's less and less, so i guess that's letting go

but it leaves my finger cut and sore with tight wire binds

and my shoulders bent

and my eyes morning wet

and my forehead furrowed with worry and shame

and i tell myself not to be afraid

and not to lock myself away

and not to seal up the doors and windows

and pretend that this place inside is the world, that it's ok to convince yourself that the dark is home

because i told someone once,

'the dark, that cold and alone place, it isn't home

it's where you hide yourself when you stop believing in home'

and i believe it

but sometimes