Stones in My Shoes

Walking around with small stones in my shoes
because I am too busy to dump them out
my subconscious is soaked in this silent shout
the mindless unkindness I continue to choose

I gnaw at my fingers to pacify my agitated mind
perpetually impatient and in a rush
my hands are covered with small burns and cuts
these subtle seeds I sow when I don't have time

This body I abuse and push past its limits
prevent unconscious punishments from piling up
silent reinforcement whispering, "not enough"
sometimes we need boundaries even from ourselves

I wouldn't dare to treat others in this careless way
would never make my children wear stony shoes
or rush so much that it made others bruised
so why, when it's me, is it suddenly okay?

I let even the thoughts that harm me repeat
the sweet pain of memories I clutch as they cut
bringing up the thought of you feels like a must
embracing waves of lacerating emotion at my feet

But if anyone else would bring you up as much
I would cringe from the cruel agony inflicted
would wonder why I am always the victim
those friendships all withered and shriveled to dust

I've neglected the inner child still in my care
I'd like to apologize and change things now if I could
it's become blatantly obvious that I should
I wonder after all I've done if that small self is still there

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