​You slide your stockinged feet over the thick carpet

To defiantly challenge the static.

But there is bare spot in your rug, hidden beneath the arm chair.

It is a gaping and unraveled sore,

Flakes of dried glue squeezing through the exposed mesh; 

And the dust, the fear-laden dust.

You pretend that I don’t know it is there,

As my shoes crunch over what has been swept beneath.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017


All of us live with emotional scars from our journey through life. These wounds prevent us from recognizing authentic  love when it appears. Someone who is truly making an effort to love you unconditionally will not purposefully poke your wounds. They will gently soften the scab and scar, until you are ready to let your fears fall away. Someone who understands love as self-gift, will take the risk to reveal their own vulnerability to you, and refuse to add to the damage that the world creates. We are held in existence at each moment by that kind of Creating Love.


Photo: Mixed media painting called “Anxiety” by Ally LaChance

20 thoughts on “Damage

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