Am I Fighting?

Am I drowning in waves and thunderstorm

Or am I thrown on the thorns

Or sent among the devil's place

Where everything pricks me

And tears me apart.

Am I gasping for air?

Or in guilt for wanting to breath

Am I trying to clean the trash?

Or getting fine with it.

Am I comfortable with darkness?

Or still searching a pinhole of light

Am I buried under some mess?

Or trying my way up.

Wherever I am thrown

I am still not broken

I am still observing and

Gathering me up

To open my eyes

And change the reality!