I wondered to myself,
I wondered,
who is this soul inside of me and
what
does it want?
I wondered and it answered,
and it gave me grief,
and anger,
and sorrow.
What am I supposed to do with your grief, anger and sorrow?
It’s not that I don’t feel for you,
whoever you are,
I really do,
or used to,
anyway.
I just managed to dump the load of toxic waste from my life
and I
don’t
want
it
back.
Tell you what:
you stay here
and breathe me in and out
and you make me happy.
You give me bliss.
You see me as special
and different
and irreplaceable.
You love me
like the beat of your heart,
like the air in your lungs,
like the blood in your veins.
You make me glad to wake up in the morning
and dress up every day in wonderful surprise.
You cherish my talent and cultivate it
until it grows into
a giant tree.
Oh, did I mention?
I want you to make me feel good about myself.
