Seeking

I could spend my whole life fighting the world I was born into,
Blaming a time I didn’t choose.

Or I can accept it.

I can accept this miracle of life.

Accept that my lungs expand in a society I am not in love with.

Maybe then I can fall in love with my lungs, my life, this life, this world.

I find myself seeking,
In spiritual discontent.
Seeking in a world I don’t trust, in a society that repulses me.

Yet a society I fear to leave.

I am seeking, searching for peace of mind, peace of body.
As my mind twists and turns my chest hurts, carrying a weight it never chose to pick up.

I feel alone, utterly alone.

Overwhelmed with these feelings of discontent.

Nothing, nothing, ever being good enough.

And who am I?

How am I more deserving than the next one?

The pain in my chest is back.
In hours of day, in hours of night.

It wakes me, and it slows my sleep.
I know it shouldn’t run me.

So I breathe.

I breathe slowly, consciously, reminding myself that all I have is this.

And I could spend my whole life fighting the world I was born into.

Blaming a time I didn’t choose.

Or I can accept it.

I can accept this miracle of life.

Accept that my lungs expand in a society I’m not in love with.

Maybe then I can fall in love with my lungs, my life, this life, this world.