a letter in my name, but the contents I have never seen
words of thanks scrawled on paper for a card I never sent
a tape sits on the shelf its label, confrontation with dad it reads my mind holds no recollection, the wound, already a scar
is it memory fading like ink in rain or a shadow wearing my face
a hand crafting a version of me that walks where I never tread
the mind is a fragile keeper of time shifting like sand under a relentless tide
each lost moment whispers a question, was it stolen or simply misplaced
every fragment that is uncovered, pulls at the thread of trust
more unanswered questions, just obstacles that cloud the mind
do I chase the truth through tangled weeds or let it slip into the quiet
what do I hope to gain, when real answers are already in the grave
how do you unlearn the fear when even the mirror feels like a stranger
is it safer to ignore the shadows to let the unanswered rest
or should I dig until my hands bleed to find the shape of what is real
truth feels brittle in this haze like glass held too tightly
I reach for it knowing it may cut because silence is not safety
but is bleeding the answer to replace what is already scarred
doubt is a thief leaving me with moments I don’t recognize
and a past that is so full of confusion, I cannot call it my own
Ecclesiastes 7:25
"So I turned my mind to understand, to investigate and to search out wisdom and the scheme of things."
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