Digging down to the roots,
trying to expose
the very center of you.
It’s been so long
since you’re seen the Sun,
buried in
your own condition.
Choosing to be
is such a difficult endeavor.
Choosing to be
who you are,
whatever that is,
is damn near impossible.
Born and placed in a framework.
Go to school,
work nine to five.
Media to tell you
which identity to choose,
but you have to stay
within the lines.
Consequences detrimental.
Never have a chance
to be you.
Layer upon layer
of conditioning,
so much time and effort
put into curating
a perfect fool.
Under all of this
paint and dye,
hormones and hazards,
the being
that reflects
the true nature of the universe
lives
entombed in culture.
These words
might be a shovel,
digging into that top layer.
Can you hear that help is coming?
Can you hold on a little longer?
No disguise
and no mistakes.
You are
such a strange creation.
Why do you think
it was so important
to indoctrinate you,
cultivate you,
relegate you
and bury you under the weight
of broken dreams,
and mediocre expectations?
Hear the sounds,
of the earth moving,
shovels in the ground,
coming to free you.
Hold on.
HG – 2022
