mind, body, soul clouded by impurities.
Frustration mounted upon expectations,
reasonable and unreasonable.
And I expect myself to do better,
to not fall into the trap of thinking of my privileges as burdens,
yet here I stand, disappointed and saddened.
And still I find myself grappling with thoughts,
ideas not smoothed by the relentless pressure of time.
You'd think, knowing better would mean not only doing better,
but thinking better too.
It doesn't, in my experience.
When I was young I would sometimes lay on the ground outside of my school.
Slowly let the cold concrete draw away the warmth of my body.
The coolness felt soothing, and upon standing up my brain was no longer as clouded.
I experienced that loss of warmth as something special.
And I miss it, along with other wonders of girlhood.
There are new wonders though,
and I attempt to accept, respect, and cherish these,
but some days it's hard.
Some days I just wonder about,
lost in me.
Hoping that the luxurious confusion and angst,
I sometimes find myself suspended in isn't as terrible
as it seems (especially in a world filled with
war, violence, hatred, and human suffering,
the likes of which I haven't seen).