Time does not heal all wounds. Talking does. Cover up a wound without cleaning it, and it festers, inflames, infects, oozes, and never heals. It bleeds all over. Clean it up. Stuff it in. Hide it behind a smile and acting nice when really seething inside is pus, and blood and black. Smiles and rot.

Open it, air it, clean it. The angry skin dries clear, pink, and healthy.

Others won’t like it. They will squash you, blame you, make you clean up the blood and hide it so they can’t see. So the wound keeps bleeding. The wound keeps bleeding until cleaned.


12 thoughts on “HEALING

    1. I kept all the secrets in and they rotted. Not my secrets really. Even now family members scorch me with reproach for speaking out.
      I use the term ‘family’ loosely. No one from the the family of origin are really family in the true sense of the word.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Amen I couldn’t conceive of blaming someone for something THEY suffered, rather than inflicted. And no family of mine would do it to me. Family is a rather…dim concept to me right now.


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