Attic

Ascend into my attic
you will see
boxes of wisdom
trinkets of doubts
Glasses of shattered memories
intellectual thinking guarded by insecurities
drapes covering blinded uncertainties
Old clothes worn from a little girl wanting to become a woman so eagerly
Snapshots of lovers that ended abusively
Plaques of sacrifices and a penny to show for it
Keepsake wounds of emotional neglect
the makings of me
With no regrets
Pain makes the brain stronger
It will always remain
In
MY
Attic