After returning home from a jubilant, exciting day
I often feel a gaping hole in me, stretching to become broader and broader
It’s a hole I often put a paste on
A paste to keep it temporarily closed, as I am fearful to venture into this gorge
“What is this intense emotion inside me?” I often ask myself
However, I’m afraid to fully step into my darkness
I’m afraid that if I were to fully explore this gorge, I’d never come out
Is it filled with black tar? Or is there some white pigment scattered around?
Is it like quicksand? Is it inescapable?
So many questions fill my mind as the days go by