Fear like fishhooks in my skin
Who put them in and when and why,
it does not matter anymore.
One by one I pull them out, careful not to break the skin.
I thank each hook for its purpose, its lesson, its pain.
Then tell myself “never again” and put the hook aside on an ever growing pile.
Some were easy to take out, some were hard to remove
Some pinned beliefs of self onto my skin,
Some pinned my eyes shut or kept my lips from speaking.
Sunken in so deep new skin grew over it, and you’d hardly notice it was ever there.
But in the silence I could hear them faintly whisper what to fear, where not to go and why.
I hear the voice of the ones who put it there and mine as I repeat the mantra of fear.
I listen carefully and accept their lesson, see their point, thank them for the heads up.
But I do take the hook out and put it on the ever growing pile.
I’ll forge a ring out of those hooks one day to remind me of the circles I broke,
the lessons I learned and the freedom that I gain.
Or not, I might just leave them behind and walk away whistling.
