Starved

I can’t hear.

I can’t think straight.

My mind and body starved.

Reason fighting with fate,

obstinately refusing to accept

that there is anything wrong.

My body inert,

a barren mass

fighting itself,

fighting its fears.

Scared to step aside

and make way

to hope…

Is it possible?

Possible to become

familiar with yourself?

To accept and acknowledge

every intricacy,

every human nuance?

To discern the purpose;

its value in surrender,

to my own brilliance…?

and imperfection…?

in equal measure.

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