It's the song I had on repeat when I was broken.
The one I kept going back too...

Everytime grief entered I went into another room.
A door, a window, the whole house and its gardens...

My love got swept up in the wind and rain but it...
When the storm subsided and the stillness came my...

I am not OK.
I haven't been OK in a long time...

I walked every avenue of avoidance just to find...
Everytime I shut down the experience it resurfaced...

My self-love is circumstantial.
My self-worth particularized by events...

That pivotal moment you decide for the first time...
You grapple with your urges and find it within...

Scars are relics I touch with reverence.
Fingers traverse across these marks...

I keep my temper but I am angry.
I save my arguments for in the shower...

How the softness of grief gives way to anger.
There is no crying but there is this feeling...

A sign on the door to the hospital read
"STOP IT OR COP IT...