I’ve pulled all of my hurts out me and suspended them in jars. I’ve carefully cut them away from what is still good and what is salvageable. And although I am tender and sore I am so relieved to be rid of them. But before I let them go, I want to really see them, one at a time. I look at the distorted figures of my pains and heartaches floating in liquid, behind glass and under lids. I look at them all lined up neatly in a row. They never felt so neat seething inside of me. They look so still now. still and calm and totally motionless accept for a gentle sway as I spin the jar around to see from all sides. It still makes me nervous to get close, even knowing they’ve been disconnected. Knowing they can’t hurt me now, severed from my heart. It still makes me nervous to get close remembering how hard they would thrash about inside of me. Remembering how sharp or heavy or violent they’ve been. Yet now to see them from the outside, to peer in thru the glass and see every detail with the light shining thru, I find them nothing less than lovely.