Weakness, vulnerable to circumstance, a trap
door, mazes of my own mind’s design, puzzles
with missing pieces, incomplete, games with
no winners, every option seems like defeat,
waking up just to repeat.
My pain is deep down into my soul’s pit, I am
hiding deep within, entrenched, with a masked
heart, my storage is overflowing. I desperately
need an outlet, a door, to unload all the
garbage inside, only to find more.
I desire to be true, to escape this masquerade, I
am not being me, I desire to be someone else, I
try to change by buying different clothes, so
tired of being fake, and simply breathing, as I
try to pose.
I desire to swallow a seed of hope, digesting
this to my core, growing an inner-strength
from a stable root, into a tree full of life,
leaves of many colours.
I will start with words on paper, the pen and
paper being my medium, jumpstarting
strength and confidence, needing to be
understood, heard, and accepted by others.
I will find meaning, that in fact, my experiences
can be used for good, and personally a greater
appreciation toward life, a seed, with a second
chance to grow, to bloom, to get back to me,
not repeating this game, which is my life
having faith that my efforts will be rewarded.