They never come in ones,

Always in a group,

The one, two punch,

With an hint of more to come.

 

As each punch lands we feel the pain,

But more importantly,

Its source.

Here, with each strike, I feel the unbelonging, malformed thoughts and intentions and whatever else comes to mind.

 

As they settle, we form our response.

Often badly thought out,

Protection, rejection and conflict begin to muster themselves,

Making the negative take center stage in life, dimming all the other lights in the theatre.

 

Now we exchange ourselves for our thoughts,

Giving them the power to control responses,

And leaving a loving heart behind,

For a weaponized, painfilled thought.

 

Time take our arms and wrap them around these thoughts,

Extinguishing them with love,

So the wounds can heal and repair,

And create a happier endings.