You know how I’m going to end?
I’ll die dissatisfied.
That’s what is going to happen.
I’ll spend my entire life like this.
Looking for things,
And eventually, I’ll realize that it was never the answer to anything.
We’re meant to learn to love and to be kind;
To heal and to help heal.
And here I am,
As if I could always carry them around,
Or wear them
Like a prize perhaps.
I know, I tend to know,
I always do.
But I have so much inside
Which is neither focused nor channelized;
And it oozes out of me,
Like blood out of a pin sized prick,
My thoughts are everywhere.
All over the place.
And I need help controlling them.
Save my soul.