I read somewhere recently
to release all my sorrows and anger
I must start by going within. Finding
that place where it all goes away.

My question to you is, is who are you
to say my worries can be
scrubbed away like dirt on a dish,
when they feel more like infections to

quarantine like a plague. When I
venture deep inside behind my
mental consciousness I find it crowded
like a busy city street.

I wander lost in the sounds and smells
surrounded by my illusions of
the human spirit. I fade into the
background of my mind.

I reach for a hand to help
me on my way, but I must climb the staircase
of self-doubt before I find my
own way out.

Contemplate a teardrop,
and this is what I see.
A drop of moisture
from an irritation?
Some agree.

What is a teardrop made of,
just some water from a gland?
But brush it off and contemplate
the moisture on your hand.

It's also made of sorrow
or from pain that you may feel
A treasure of emotion
on your cheek
that might congeal

"Tears of happiness" are made
of joy or great suprise
That fall like rain in summer
from a pair of smiling eyes.

They course down cheeks in rivers
or collect on lashes there.
They form in silent puddles
when emotions are laid bare.

Tears are gems as precious
as a diamond that is mined
So do not take them lightly
if their origins you can't find.

They're made of things like music
that can make the heart take wing
Or how the soul can elevate
to hear an angel sing.

In case no one gets it,
i collect my excerpts
better
than i spell my prayer.
Spills my personal feelings
and trouble,
longer than i bow
on my knees.

i memorize every shame
and quote it
in a piece of paper,
the same stroke
they did to break
my bones.
Marks down
every of their tone
when i got yelled at,
being degraded.

In case no one gets it,
i use my fingertips to fight.
Being sure of my words,
but never myself.

They can take off my guts,
break down my sanity
into pieces of insecurity.
Yet i’m here to remain bold
until the last spill of ink,
and my pen
can no longer stand.

I'm running out of time
and the clock is ticking fast
But I'm trying to erase
all the damage in my past

I'm running out of time
and these minutes never last
But the darkness that I race
is the shadow that I cast

the wrong one
will find you in peace
and end up leaving you in pieces

only the right one
can find you in pieces
and guide you to peace