Saturday, July 28, 2012

Return to myself

I am trying to return to myself
but in my way
stands a forest
of every tree I have ever climbed
or thought of climbing
and I regret now
that my dreams feel ever so small
wrapped tightly in eucalyptus leaves
and bound with a wisp
of dry wood smoke
warm-feeling like a memory

There is an organ
within my body
of soft sweet innocence
and with it
I have mourned the loss
of my childhood
I have longed to erase
the false truths I have told myself
I have tried to return to myself

The heavy mist of optimism
seems to have dissipated
but on days like today
there is just enough moisture in the air
to breathe deeply

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