We Prepare Ourselves
Creating visions of rotting flesh or growing bones of strength. We sink or we rise with each waking morning. Sparking our day to begin, whether it be in the shadows of our pain or in the smile of our joy. We prepare ourselves with how we think.
We battle with instinct, to shrivel or fight. Allow burdens to be our predators or our prey. Shedding our fur to lighten our load, or hold dear to the dreary cold. We are what we design in the thrills of our being.
Lecture with care for the mind follows well. Seeking shelter from any enemy, even ourselves. We must learn to prepare for ourselves. We are quick addicts to pain but slow to happiness, to gratitude. For it is easier to crumble under pressure than rise, to prepare day in an day out.
The mind wishes nothing but the sweet stagnant taste of survival. Even is this survival we be a dark cloud beneath our sheets. We take to tears so easily, as does a warrior to his blade. Yet take cautiously to our hearts, as a does a warrior to his wounds.
Cautious to speak of agony, in fear of rejection, of misunderstanding. We sew our lips shut as a witch sews her words. Cursing with reason to bring dread, fear, anxiety. But we must cut the threads from our lips, toss the needle and breathe.
Let our wounds show, let them bleed so you may feel them, not just know of them.
We are so easily starve ourselves of ourselves. We must learn to open our hearts and mend our wounds so that we may grow.
Want to hold words such as these in your hands? A Man's Traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words.
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