Alquimista

Peering into the Void

Horror and Freedom manifold

Opening; with light refracting

Looking, finding, assuming

Heating piss in the hunt for gold

Like my parents in the days of old

Yellow they think

so close to that damn gold

all they need is to mold

But alas it is but fools' Gold!

Or so they think

like so many do

Almost white; and yet,

not quite.

And so, I collect myself

In jars and bottles neatly labeled

collected and shelved.

When the streams and currents

and waves recede

When the shelves break,

the jars crack

and the labels fade

When all that was left was me.

Skin cracked, faded and peeling

Still Alive.

Still Whole.

Hurt; but more.

I find myself not as piss but as gold.

Alquimista

Not because I changed who I am.

But because I love who I am.

And in the process, turned myself golden.

Yellow; yes, with all the culture and nuances it brings.

Sunshine, with all the promise of a rainbow.

Piss; but actually Gold.