Broken, scattered pieces

Laying strewn across the floor

Something missing and lost forever

I cannot no longer see my future

Or the person I was becoming

Now, I’m undone and something else

I am this diagnosis

This label that owns me

Stealing everything I imagined I’d become

And rewriting me without my consent

As my body cracks and crumbles

My hope turns to dust

Leaving me here to stare at my mortality in the mirror


It could be worse

But I wish it was something better

Burning pain

Branding me, scarring me, breaking me

In all the places you cannot see

I walk through the crowd

A spector of suffering unrecognized

Looking the same as those around me

And I wonder if they feel the same

Bitter, iron bars caging around me

Biting down into my bones

Seeping into the fundamental programming

Forever altering who I am

I clutch upon the thing with feathers

That perches precariously in my soul

I wish I could hear it sing

Letting the little bird go

I watch it fly away, fly away

And with a fragile voice

Begin to sing


Be like the tree.
Set your feet firmly upon the ground
so that you might have a solid foundation to build yourself.
Reach your arms up to the sky
so that you may be inspired by the sun.
Drink of the inner waters and of the sunlight
so that you may know joy.
Feel the winds of the world around you
so that you might free you soul.
And like the tree,
know the eternal satisfaction
in the simple state of being within the now.


If you but reach for it,
you can hold all the world with in the palm of your hand.
Not in the grabbing of power or things,
but in the letting go of things that do not matter
to make room for the essential self
which is already all the world with in.