The closets we hold/
closed/
with our memories/
and regrets/
and pain/
and anger/
and ‘what if’s’/
and “I should have’s”/
choke us,/
like an albatross/
around our neck,/
like a millstone tied,/
weighing us down,/
like a bad meal/
returning again/
and again/
and again;/
sour burning/
into our throat./
And when we dare/
swallow deeply,/
gulp,/
and open/
the closet,/
face our fears,/
disgard the distrust,/
harness our hurts,/
tame our trash,/
and purge our past,/
it’s not just spring/
cleaning./
It’s our spring/
board./
We jump./
We leap./
We soar.
Tags: clean, cleaning, closet, CyranoWriter, Emotional poetry, face our fear, hurt, hurting, improv blogging poem, IMprov Poetry, Kuhns, pain, poems, poet David Kuhns, Poetic Lament, Poetry, revolutionary poetry, rhythm, rhythmn, spring clean, springboard, Suffering, working through issues, www.cyranowriter.com
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