the wounded healer

i am the mountains; i am the trees; i am the lorax; i am only just me, and

from within my dreams last night, i visited the life i always wanted

and that i could have had once upon a time... but upon waking

to this world, now i am realizing just HOW deeply depressed i am,

how far from the mark and off the intentional path i have been marched,

how far too MUCH of myself i give, and that i have been so frivolous with.

to people who would eat my hope as if it was candy, leaving me stoned-

as if it gives them life because they cannot create their own,

only knowing it by taking that of others. i don't think- i know i don't know-

anyone anymore who can, actually, understand- let alone completely-

but i think i know some understand how greatly important it is for me

that i don't lose what little i have left because there is no MORE

life without it. i no longer eat, breathe, and dream in hope, wonder or bliss.

even i do not understand it- so i just don't think you CAN, even fleetingly.

conventional worldview won't mention an empath, but a schizophrenic,

only to be subdued- medicated beyond recognition of its natural beauty-

and from within that conservative pathos i receive the equivalent of this:

misunderstanding, conversion therapy, no guidance or applicable help;

only more trauma, shock to my sensitive soul, pushed closer to losing sight.

i've felt others desperation, disappointments, fears of unworthiness,

and their hate and thought THEY were mine to the point that they now are

formed as a lasting part of my soul. i've given my joy, elation, fulfillment,

and my certainty in my faith- thinking they were not mine to have, to feel,

to the point that they are, at least partially, lost to me and inconceivable

to reclaim, or to TAKE back- even by force despite lacking other options.

so relentlessly living life unintentionally, refusing to see how lost we are,

and for longer than i even remember i have been running FROM myself.

the torments and trauma that drove us to this are hidden; only do as told-

as this emotional refugee, reasons are shrouded in mystery and concealed-

for reasons beyond understanding and control, resistance is futile, and

a journey described as if to keep ME from hurting and to aid in healing,

but the purposes were never intended for my interests, even naively.

i wanted to believe it to be a divine crusade or a spiritual activation, but

i was never whom this journey meant to leave better than when it began.