Attempts at reaching the turning point in my life has been but a series of winding roads, seemingly always taking back to the beginning of the core.
The core that holds an enormous splice of hurts, uncertainty, insecurity and all other weak blind spots that I assumed had dissipated.
Yet they remain, clothed like the benevolent missionary, whose intentions result in inappropriate insults, digging the grave of despair far deeper than its’ initial hate.
This abandonment and open confusion, allows mines’ core to become susceptible to anyone who has an opinion, to spit venomous strikes at my BEing, lure my vulnerability with lewd suggestions disguised as love, shit in the abyss of the mess that I have allowed to drench my spirit…
Yet on the attempts to clear out all the useless gore, attempts to refresh my lense and take a look at my brighter Self, whose smile touches a million souLs, the closest bloodsuckers swoon to drench out the shining light that soars.
The bloodsuckers that my naivety wants to believe in all their goodness yet are reminders of my once knackered core.
So, in attempts to reach the deafening silenced peak of internal silence, I shall never stop journeying…in attempts for my right resolves.
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