mine field

where are the things that we leave behind from yesterday?
who gets them? 
do we pass them off to our friends or our family members or the strange man in white flannel 
and each day we live full of innuendos, assumptions and misunderstandings 
picking our way through the landscape of emotional mines
sometimes never stopping to address the carnage we leave behind 
where do we go to escape the fullness of our reality? 
and to whom do we present bloodied hands or bloodied souls?

how lost do we get before we seek help? 


About papillion

Intense Often Moody Transparent Exquisitely sensitive Animated Never satisfied Curious Eternal Romantic Creative Devotedly Christian Encouraging Multi-layered Loving Quick Judge Critical Forever evolving View all posts by papillion

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