My Voices In Threads
History is not what they
Teach you in textbooks.
It's your own history that
Frightens you.
And I was once afraid.
I was afraid of an immortal soul.
One that would watch me
While I slept.
I was afraid of being whole,
Of seeing that dimming light
Beyond a sickly tunnel.
I wanted peace with no recluse.
I wanted sanity and pride.
But I had forgotten my own name.
I had left it
At the gates of my childhood.
I had left it with my path of life.
Petty tears have brought me back to it.
I now see in only red.
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