Why do I choose to be in pain and heart ache when the space that occupies my body is mine.
Nothing outside can touch my space
I make my own soup
my own chemistry
But still
Sometimes I choose to be in pain and heartache
Why
I sit on my porch while My dog sleeps peacefullly
Something I wish i could do
The sun sets like A dying ember
But every morning it rises
And still I choose the pain
Within myself
Even though all around me is beauty
Beauty of nature
The birds chirping
The trees blowing
It’s so beautiful all around me
But still inside
my soup
I concoct despair
Why
The flowers are still blooming outside
The trees aren’t whining after the storm
I’m too much in my head
Not realizing the consciousness I was blessed with
This is a blessing or a demise
But the choice is always mine..
How will I allow this consciousness to bloom
Will I allow it to flower
or will I fight the current of life and cause it to wither and die
No no
Let me be the flower
That Wethers the storm
Trusting that the sun will come and dry the rain
The wind will stop
And the flow will allow me to flourish and bloom every season
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