Life
Sometimes I feel that life is a dream I dare not wake up from.
Like things are so diluted that they must be this way for a reason.
I dont think most people will understand my yearning for something that I, myself
have no idea about.
No concept of what I want, or need to be whole.
I was told that I have a hole in me.
Though caustic, true.
This I always knew.
Telling me makes no difference.
Writing, I realize, is good for my soul.
Even though,
this, Ive always known,
I shy away from it:
not knowing the reason why.
Im learning.
Im trying to forget.
Im trying to forgive.
Im not forgiving.
Im not forgiving, Im not forgetting at all...
Pain is good for the soul.