You must begin to understand
that you are not something you can discover,
like some unknown land.

You do not carry any hidden caves
in which you have yet to explore.

You do not contain any quarries
holding secret riches waiting for you to obtain.

You roam blindly around in circles
trying to decipher symbols in the Earth
that you already know.

You are not something you can discover.
You are not unknown.

You search for pathways around the mountain’s base
and fail to realize they do not exist.

You fail to see that that time was a waste
that you could have spent on climbing
those mountains instead.

You are not something you can discover.
There is nothing you do not already
know.

These things you search for,
they’re already written in your skies
and along your valleys.

These answers
you are desperate for, lie right beneath
your nose, in front of your very eyes.

Those hidden caves that you believe to be
unexplored, have been your home
all along,

and those riches that you so strongly
long for, are already well within
your grasp.

You are not something you can discover.
You are not something that can be found.

Because,
you are not something
that is
lost.

Your thoughts
are such powerful things.
They can corrupt
your mind and destroy you,
like poison,
if you let them.

And it’s so easy
to give in to.
The poison,
it’s addicting,
intoxicating.
The sorrow
so tragically inviting.

The bottomless abyss
you so willingly
return to
feels more like home
than any lover
you've ever clung to,

and more comfortable
than all your attempts
to dig your way
into their rib cage,
to try and find
a place to settle down,

with foolish hopes
of filling that emptiness
in your heart, which
you carry around so heavily,
that these pathetic attempts
will ultimately create inevitably.