Every trauma leaves a scar
Our bodies sustain tales that are untold
We collect them like a penny in a jar
Whilst our paper hearts are meant to fold
With every bruise and every cut
We seek for guidance
Even with our eyes turned shut
Our stories give us reliance
The beating of our hearts
Is the truth we cannot dismiss
Up until the silence starts
Entering eternal bliss
J.L.M. Haarman
23/02/2020