Where does your pain live?
When you don’t know where to put it
Where does it go?
When you don’t know what to do with it
When you don’t want to turn to a bottle or a bag
To run from the experiences and feelings you’ve had
What filing cabinet inside of your brain
Does it reside in?
Which drawer, under which label, inside which folder could I find it?
What kind of costume or character do you require when you want to hide it?
To stop feeling it for a moment
To take a second
To remember who you were before you owned it
To remember life before everything became a lesson
Where did you go to glue your broken parts back together?
Or did you leave them as they were?
Will you let them stay like that forever?
Did someone come into your life and love you despite it?
Or did they use those broken parts to their advantage while you were trying to fight it?
Where does your joy come from?
And when it's there can you enjoy it?
Does it feel as warm and as brilliant and as yellow and as poignant?
Do you think there’s a world where the pain goes away?
When you live for enough more days that it starts to fade?
Or
Do you learn to love it?
Instead of trying to find somewhere for it to live
Do you learn to love the pain for the power
That it gifts you and it gives
I wonder
If on the other side
When you ask me where my pain lives
I might have the answers to provide
