This post is part of a series called 100 Days of Poetry.
Did you know that in all the aftermath of our yesterdays we can visit ourselves and start anew. Did you know healing felt so raw, like road rash near the pickle factory. Each (re)discovery another throbbing itch you can’t find. Did you know how much safety would cost? Did you even inquire. Did you know that lying to me would be this pervasive, that I would never forget, that I would build my trust on the back of your heels turned to the sky from your begging stance for me to see it your way. Did you know? Did you even know I have always known this about you? Did you know you taught me everything about nothing at all.