Every day.

i struggle so deeply everyday

to shove you in my back pocket

or toss you in the middle of a pile of memories

or lock you up in a locker full of

forgotten hand-me-downs that I no longer remember 

because I am so much older now

but it’s unfinishing

this journey is unending

and each day, I wake up soaked in a pool of sweat

because in my dreams I had been frantically searching for the keys

to open you up and let you out

to find you and love you over again.

but then I start each day again 

and pick up the struggle from where I left off the previous day.


© The Short Black Girl, 2018


4 thoughts on “Every day.

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