Sober Sundays
Sober Sundays
How Vulnerable We Feel
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How Vulnerable We Feel

#Prompt 121

The world is a safe place for underbellies

There are no blades sharpened to

Spill guts

Announce the demise of our naïveté

Carve us open

See how much we can take before saying “enough”

We are nestled in the pillow of arms and arms

Loved into amnesia of things that erase the warmth

And I will remain here while my body travels

Trade nothing for this belonging

Remember nothing of the journey here

The people I broke along the way

The someones that broke me

Then I arrive in this world

where they don’t hold the pieces.

Or refashion the broken

You just are who you are.

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Sober Sundays
Sober Sundays
Every Sunday, a new poem or story by Obii