Whenever I am faced with difficult decisions I try to reach into my heart to find what I desire. This can sometimes seem impossible. Here is something I wrote in my journal a couple of months ago when faced with the confusing question of “What do I want?”.
Blocked and locked. Closed off.
I reach for it but it comes back around,
Covers my eyes again with this buzzing.
I reach for it again, but can’t grasp –
Can’t mould hands –
Can’t pump blood –
When my heat is locked up like this.
Everything it does feels like a dirty secret.
The feelings bring guilt,
As though I have been wed to shame
And every other experience of emotion
If you could just twirl it out in letters!
Shudder it into sound,
Snap it into sculpture!
Or…take it back.
To know or to forget the question,
those are the only two options for happiness.
Oh I don’t believe that?
I’ve a duty to optimism,
And a foot in the universe perpendicular to this plane.
The one where I’ve felt presence.
And known what it is without explanation.
Love churns my mouth like a sour peach,
It is the sickness after days at the beach,
Love is heat stroke,
How come only the sad can sing,
and only the hurt can love?
Where is the Banker of the Universe
Who collects our tears and
trades us beauty?
Is he fair?
Is he knowing?
I pay him confusion and time,
I trade this for the answers that will one day be mine.
(And I write poetry because I like to read it.)