the comfortability of sorrow

I know I haven't been on yws but poetry will always call me back home

to heal would be to let go

wash away my iniquities and cleanse me from my sin
baptize me and make me new
but what do you do
When those iniquities are the very center of who you are
intwined in your DNA like a snake
waiting to strike and bleed you dry
to crush you with the weight
of never being enough
knowing that your faults live like a disease inside of you
too small to be perceived but deadly enough to crush you
I hold myself together because if I unravel
I fear you will see inside of me
and that snake wrapped around the definition of who I am
will bite you too
and we will bleed out
and it will be my fault
another sin to add to the sum of who I am
if you wash away my iniquities
do you also wash me away
for I don't know who I am
when not in the comfort of my own self loathing

to let go would mean to become unknown

When I look in the mirror
I wonder who I am
is my definition made in the cracked glass
thin lines broken by the bad days
unseen on the good
when I look into that mirror
and see my smile and think of how you bring it out in me
hear your voice calling all my insecurities beautiful in your sight
do these perceptions add to the sum of who I am
or is the center of my self
formed by the sea
waves washing on a still shore
complicit in the comfort of water filling my lungs
sanding my edges like sea glass
beautiful but easily broken
shaped by the world
making a new definition through it's perception
does my definition lie in my DNA
two parents forging me in a fire of hate
leaving me with only the chance to share their eyes
and his anger ; her sadness
our pain
or is it simply
that I am here
like clay formed by the fathers hands
able to change and grow
to shatter and be put back together
from dust to dust
an everlasting part of the everlasting cycle
of what it is
to be alive

to become unknown would be to lose yourself

what does it mean to be truly lost
are you so far removed from yourself
that there is no way home
but if I am not looking for a way home
just a way out
then who decides I am lost
if i am in constant motion
embraced by the force of perpetual inertia
tied to this earth by the force of time always trudging on
then the way out must be forward
but perhaps this constant motion is circular
like the earths rotation
the inescapable gravitational force that is my past
forgiveness mixed with the hate i carry deep within my bones
always returning to the same comfortable grudges
so maybe I am not lost in a cosmos of burning stars with no direction
but lost in my fear of finding the way

to lose yourself would be to fall free

there's a green field
of grass and flowers
butterflies drift lazily in the spring
it is beautiful and windswept
and everyday I take my shovel
and dig a hole in the earth
And cry into the muddy soil
seeds take root in this soil I've watered
life springing forth from pain
beauty growing from a broken heart
on a day where sun was covered by clouds
I took your hand and led you here
and we sat by my little hole
and you cried
and we never spoke about it again
my tongue tied by my dependency on being strong
my fear of hurting you with my pain
I dig my hole deeper
an obsession that grows
I fight it like grasping at an autumn mist
reaching out like a ghost in a graveyard
yearning for a lost lover
and still I dig
this hole is six feet deep
maybe I will reach the center of the earth
before I meet the edges of myself

to fall free is to embrace solitude

solitude is not a physical condition
it is not a plain white room with no doors
it is not enforced with lock and key
solitude is a part of who you are
a self inflicted isolation
present in a room full of people
it is never having the words
a constriction of your lungs
vocal chords unwilling to give in
solitude is letting yourself forget
focusing glass fixed eyes upon your trouble
to leave behind your love
solitude is a disease
it takes all you have and leaves you dry
living inside of you but untraceable
solitude is an addiction
A yearning to conveless in the saftey of loneliness
to bathe in the pain like a healing water
solitude is self inflicted
but impossible to fight
I embrace it like a lover and lothe it like an enemy
it holds me in the night
and will read my eulogy when I die

to embrace solitude is to learn to be okay
It's something slow
not flipping a switch
where one day all the bad thoughts stop coming
And you let go of all the pain
it is like a drop of water
slower than tears
but a steady process
a cause you dedicate your soul too
and fail time and again
such is the nature of learning
to stumble and fall
not a guarantee
not a promise
but a process worth chasing
to learn
to be okay

the comfortability of sorrow

There is a complacency in pain
a comfort in knowing it's just as it's always been
a search for identity beyond circumstance
the fear to step outside it all
to let your sins be washed clean
to form your own definition of self
to accept that you are lost
to embrace the free fall
to leave solitude
to learn to let go of sorrow
the fear that constricts your breath
the thoughts that keep you up at night
the emotions that entwine around your heart
like thorny vines that pierce deep
these things you embrace with a dying breath
because to pull out the knife is more dangerous
it will bleed you dry
but there was blood shed for you
and it will fill
and make you new
so turn your face to the sunrise
let the light wash over your skin and warm your weary bones
and let it go
the comfortability of sorrow
meets the light of loving yourself