My body is a sieve.
Full of holes, yet still whole. And intact.
It's a bit rusty in places-
once shiny and new, the metal frame is tainted,
by the brownish red rust, caused by a saltwater bath.
Chains are only as strong as their weakest link,
is my structure my weakness?
Catching the pain, anger, jealousy, and frustration.
Like the solids are caught when liquids flow through.
Accomplishments, attributes, words of praise?
Seemingly too small, few, or insignificant
to make it, out on top.
Are they really though?
Perhaps, my structure could be my strength.
As a gold miner sifts for gold, I might sift for kindness.
-for hope, for joy, for light.
I could let the darkness and cruelty of the world
wash over me.
I could let it flow through the holes.
Grudges, envy, loathing?
None of it would affect me.
My structure can be my strength.
