Things that Have no Name
The way it feels when you sit in a circle with strangers
and tell them the intimate secrets
that hide in the attic of your mind
The broken sound of honesty
catching in your throat
That mushy, fall-apart feeling
of a Kleenex in your hand
The way the floor can receive something
so valuable, yet be swept away.
The burning taste of a word spoken
like salt on a wound
The silent sound of tears
and the healing balm of being heard.
Poet:
Psychiatric Intensive Outpatient Therapy Group
Summa Health System
Design:
Nate Mucha
Kent State University
Visual Communication Design
Poster
