Turbulence

Nine of Pentacles Reversed

you’re not the only one who talks to themselves
you’re not the only one who is embarrassed to raise their hand
you’re not the only one disappointed in how you let yourself down
you’re not the only one who enjoys the smell of rain on concrete, on dirt
you’re not the only one who prefers cream of wheat to oatmeal
you’re not the only one who had an abortion, or a miscarriage
you’re not the only one who cries in the shower, in the car, in the bed—everywhere
you’re not the only one who has lost something precious
you’re not the only one who had to regrow heart after heart after heart
you’re not the only one who lost the genetic lottery
you’re not the only one who has a penchant for attracting the wrong kind of person to love
you’re not the only who doesn’t remember how they got home on several occasions
you’re not the only one who has passionately planned out revenge 
you’re not the only one who was neglected
you’re not the only one who had their jewel stolen from them
you’re not the only one walking around in a body that doesn’t fit
you’re not the only one who prefers Mozart to Wagner
You’re not the only one who doesn’t step on cracks on the street because you still care about your mother’s back
you’re not the only one scared of the dark
you’re not the only one who loves so deep it feels like your last breath
you’re not the only one
you’re one
of
everyone