You’re going to have to clear out your arsenal;
Let go of all those real and imagined
Slights you’ve been storing up;
All the times someone said no
When you wanted yes;
All the remembered instances
When things didn’t go your way;
The insults and the wounds imbedded
Deep in the bunkers of your brain;
The ones that have been fermenting for so long
There’s a pool of acid leaking into
Every step you take; every sentence that you utter.
All the weapons you’ve stored up
To fire off at the least provocation?
You need to let them go.
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