Myself Myself

Caught inside the pandemonium of my brain

Something tells me to get out in the world while

Another emotion buries me deep inside myself,

Withdrawing.

I cannot claim to be strong any longer

I have become flooded with emotions

But emotions are bad; pure weakness.

Aren't they?

This is a silent struggle against what my feelings signify,

The feelings that I try to quell.

Why do I think I am never the victor in this struggle?

Being strong, in my insecure mind, will set me free.

Right?

Free from the intense, burning power of my emotions.

Reputation surely cannot withstand these changes of heart, and

Already the fragile floodgates I've painstakingly constructed

Have fallen, now rubble that cannot block out

Being effusive

Letting myself appreciate and open up to others

Or sitting, simply and idly- when I should be doing work-

On the dewless green grass

To stare

And smile,

Enjoying the billowing clouds breezing across

The blue, sunny sky of a summer day

When the sun shines on your face

And you feel warmth radiating through your whole being...

It is probable in these moments that I'll find

What I should have been searching for all these years

But never have-

Myself.