Blood is a paradox

Contested but essential

To the machine


I don’t regret it,

Being born

Despite the cruelty

That you concede

I’ve outgrown that life

That limp-fisted agony

Dusk no longer

Accelerates my fears

I am priceless

However flawed


I saw my new therapist the other day. I answered questions about my childhood without crying but when I talked about my current struggles with worth I just started balling. I was so taken off guard I actually looked aroud to see where the noise was coming from. Sorry for the dark topic on Christmas but the therapy session left impressions.