I so often put my own foot in my mouth, that my tongue has become a welcome mat. Worn out with grit and dirt, I feel like my words are trapped between the bristles of my mind. Tangled up with all the dust, my heart sits there wondering when the next wash cycle will start. Healing does not come without heartache and for that I wasn’t ready for. Shoe laces untied, I trip on every little thing and stare out ahead wondering how much further I’d be if I’d just learn how to tie up my ego. Yet, I self sabotage. White nikes stained with muddy water from past decisions I’ve made. I wear them at all times because I rarely tend to forgive myself. My past mistakes do not end up in the trash like they should, they sit there on the door mat ready each morning to remind me.