Hidden treasures,
buried in the sand.
How do I hold them,
in my hand?
Who is writing these words,
I don't know.
Barely am I,
familiar with this flow.
Lying, so awake.
On a search,
a quest to find,
my own spring,
my well.
The hidden corners of my mind.
And as I search,
shine my light into the dark.
Around corners,
in the dark alleys.
The forgotten places,
where nobody dare wander.
There it is, I find,
renewed awareness and perception.
I smile and speak to these orphans in my mind.
Starved and alone, long abandoned.
"Let me help you", is what I say.
After all,
I have left them here for so long.
I am the one that let them decay.
I mourn for them.
Let me help you, recover you.
Bring you home, satiate your hunger,
Give you a warm bed and let you rest.
It is true.
After all this time,
I will once more care for you.
Done with all this madness,
shoved in closets.
So conscious I now roam.
These sources of self-denial and untruthfulness.
The undiscovered,
now discovered.
Close these faucets!
I will bring you home.
Seeking out contradictions in my life is having the curious effect of recovering my creativity that I’ve lost for years. I got spontaneous inspiration to write this, and that doesn’t happen often. A good sign.
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