Hieroglyphics on my jawbone // artifacts behind glass and all the fingerprints from passersby
I must have been loud in a past life.
That is why my jaw always hurts. That is why I can’t stop tucking my hair
I never needed to learn about the edges of letters
and how sharp they can feel pressed against an unspoken moment.
I must have been fragile in a past life.
That is why my bones are so big. That is why
I am able to close my ribs tighter
and tighter together until my heart cannot escape.
In a world where softness feels like a curse, I
know my soul once yearned for it.
I am a body adapting to an ancient
callous. A soft paint stroke of an amnesiac soul
what it never had. Someone, somewhere, long ago
is proud of me for continuing their journey.