Some of my shoes still have Maine mud on them.
They still stink of fear and hurt and shame,
Things that I planted in those seaside shores ,
And swore I’d never come back to reap their fruit.
But I’m afraid some of it stuck.
Some of it’s got it’s hold on my heart
And I still shake and I still cry.
And I know I’m beyond it.
I know that I am strong
But those muddy Maine shores
Seem to have stuck to me.