I Wish I Felt Free

In this yearning for
poetry
I have found myself
hurting myself
trying to love
myself
putting myself
in a box
I can’t open
the lid
I can’t breathe

 

I 

became

dead.

 

 

In a moment of clarity I found infinity within myself where vanity hadn’t tainted its purity.

Am I as worthless as I believe myself to be?
Surely
it can’t
be
so
but
why
can’t
I
see
it
why
am
I
so
stupid
and
lazy
I
can
never
do
anything
right.

I wish
I
had
worth.
I
think I do.

 

The only time I stopped
crying
today

was when I was under water
in the bathtub.

Submerged
inside
my mind
there is a pond
in a forest.

I’m trying to write
about
it
make
it
into
somebody else’s
words.

If someone else says it
it seizes to be my reality
it becomes poetry
it becomes acceptable
when I obscure my ugly inside
it becomes unreal
and it will
feel
like it was only invented
by someone
with great imagination.

 

I wish I felt free.

I wish
I’ll
have
the strength
to cook
spaghetti
today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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