i have many weights sleeping on my heart.
distraction brings no solace,
escapism not a change in scenery.
pain is a tree of replacement,
my suffering the blood of their fruit,
my flesh the main victim.
a collaboration of gnawing and burning truths
what else would make this life, a life
if not the wretched deal
of karmic strife?
when the wound passes through clear,
a hole in my chest,
the ringing of my ears,
only then must i talk to the pain.
to look the dark in the eye
and to find their hiding spots.
but until then,
i will think about what to say.

a conflict of sorts:
i am trying to help myself
but am i making it worse?
are you my only option?
will you redeem me?
do i ask all the wrong questions?
are my reflection and i the same?
who is it that i want to be?
one i chase so desperately?
what is her name?

all that i used to be
is now so forgotten
unknown; she is foreign
separation of my mind
i can't understand it
all pieces tried to help me
yet fed me with lies
reality, perception
who can really tell the difference?
i know what my part of life is made of
...but what about the rest?

today
i thank the sun
for its light
and warmth
i am kin to the earth
no longer afflicted
with a muddy mind
i am green now
i have grown.