The slippery seeds
of discontent
are spent
on the soft
and fertile soil
of my fractured soul.

Anger fuels
a field of fury
and I push myself
beyond the simple confines
of physical comfort
and a sane mine.

I plant my feet
and feel the soft earth
part and slowly swallow
the portions of me
that are hopelessly hollow.

The rage against
human violence
and the impoverishment
of humanity,
the devastation
of the sharp blades
of heartbreak
from rejection
form a sword
of self-hate
that I use to
cut away
any weeds
that might impede
my growing season.
The pliable dirt,
soft brown earth
allows me to sink in
for the final planting.

All my seeds drop
rage,
pain,
fear,
doubt.

Then in the spring
something unforeseen
comes blooming.

Instead of a sick
and disgusting human thing
full of deformities,
a new creature emerges
for the harvesting.
A long stalk
of self-improvement,
a truly creative,
and compassionate being
is freed,
and I harvest him.
He nourishes me
as I strive to be
the man
I always wanted to be.