I am an uncomfortable mess of big words and over-thinking
and clichés that don't quite fill my appetite.
In here I am a swamp with a paradise deep down that can't fight the
sludge sludge sludge
and I miss you terribly
and I miss myself- before you and the knowledge of war and political turmoil and those tumors that ****
(not just cancer, but that type of ache that punches your ribs into a pulp).
Sometimes I look up to the sun and it should make me feel light and free,
but I am so lost here- not like when I was young.

what pains me most in life
is not knowing a reason for something
not being able to explain- in full-
why certain things deem to be a certain way.

why do hugs feel so **** good?
why does the smell of the air after a storm elate me?
why does the gentle tickling of a sun ray on my back ease my soul?

why is there no choice to be born?
why do some of us suffer from day to day whilst others merely seem to accumulate happiness?
why is my brother severely disabled?

truthfully, I have come to conclude,
that no amount of seeking will suffice
and
do we really want the burden of absolute knowledge anyway?