A Wall

The body remembers what the mind tries to forget.

There are patterns we wish we could unsee, moments where hope feels louder than memory. Sometimes the body remembers what the mind refuses to believe, and the quiet between the two becomes its own kind of truth.

Poem: A Wall

The pattern you’ve seen before
yet the hope that this time, the change is real,
erases the lessons of recent pasts.

Shock, as if it’s the very first time.
Shame, because it’s a lesson already learned.

Memory sits in the body
while the brain sees reality
a quarrel within,
and the body wins every time.

A wall.
A brick wall.
Silence.

And the hope
that soon the body will empower
what the mind already knows,
the lesson not to be learned again,
but to know.
To know how.

A wall.
A brick wall.
Silence.

Healing can look like accepting that recognition is enough.
It’s enough to notice the quiet shift,
the body remembering
and finally, gently,
refusing to forget.

If you know, you know.
And if you do, you’re not alone.

One sunrise, one breath, one truth at a time.

🌅 Hanging By a Sunrise