Life is often
under appreciated and
taken for granted.
Lately I've been nervous.
It seems that with
each passing month,
more red-tape
and paperwork are
required to cash into
happiness.
There is a space
(filled with white noise
and chaos)
between my eyes.
I'm uncertain on
how to conduct myself -
not sure of
who to be.
And torn
between the cross roads
of my future -
each leading to
another to
another to
another.
I cry out in joy and
in pain.
My mind is pregnant with
feverish thoughts
which contract and mature
to full grown
madness,
and eat away at the
foundation of
Who I ought to be
Who can I be?
The world is at my finger tips
yet the dirt of incoherence
digs deep below my nails.
Perhaps on that
Good Day
I will finally
achieve grace -
Shedding my
tragic existence
as to mimic a
butterfly's exit from
its brown cocoon -
And in the
sharp shafts of light
be cleansed
and forgiven.

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