Internal Conflict
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Dear Mr. Poet,
It has been some time since we last spoke.
I still remember your words of budding integrity:
"To be free
Is to be most present and vulnerable, with mind, body, and deed.
To her I had clung,
Haunted by the melody she’d sung.
Only bitter pieces remained,
And the numbness waned.
“Don’t cry,” she’d say,
Stress
Destroys all peace
And throttles all senses
Creating images that cannot exist
Attacking reality,
My heart beats the same as ever
My eyes see just as poorly
My nose works just as well
Yet I am different
When I roll out of bed late
Snow drifts and Sand dunes
are impossibly the same.
Delusion and dissolution
Two wolves stood eye to eye
One covered in fur dark with the night sky
The other dressed in brilliant white
They bared their fangs, ready to fight!
As quick as they lept, as swift as they tore
The silence that fills his ears mirrors the emptiness that lives within him.Yet the chaos that controls his mindpenetrates as deeply as the scars that litter his skin.
