Déjà vus I speak. You cut my words to force in yours. I ride over yours to finish mine. — I speak at you. You mute the words I haven’t said yet. I ride over yours to save my voice. — I speak at the parts of you I see. You stop my voice to stop your pain. I ride over yours to be seen for who I am. — My shame speaks at the softness you’re embarrassed by. Your tongue stabs into the wounds I’m ashamed of. I ride over your attacks to shield myself. — An unfolding spiral of déjà vus, unhappened conversations; each one a wiser teacher. Am I ready? To paddle freely through deep undercurrents. To interrupt my interruptions before they start. I speak…
Profound insight on social relations and personal growth, thank you