Through the Woods

My head’s all messed up
and I don’t know
where to start at
and I don’t know
who I am
yet
or who I’d like to be
yet

My days ring out
like a scratched up record
and I find myself tip-toeing around the corners
of a mind
that doesn’t seem to work
the way people say it should

and I still don’t know who I am
yet

and I’m fighting demons I don’t even know the names of

and I’m
lost
in the woods
of what could be in Africa, Tasmania, New Zealand, Cambodia, Mars or Cuba
and who really knows either

Sometimes I feel like an extraterrestrial

When I’m sitting amongst people laughing about movies I haven’t seen

and characters from their favourite TV shows
that I haven’t met
yet

or discussing concepts
of which the names themselves
have never
kissed my ears or eyes
let alone
seeped into the inner corners
of my mind
yet

and I think that
maybe
I’m just bad at making decisions,
’cause I can never seem to stay focused on anything long enough to create something whole
yet

and I feel like an alien
all too often

and therapy isn’t helping,
herbal tea just makes me sleepy,
aromatherapy only works when
it strikes the olfactory
septic tank
filter

I’m lost
once again,
the waft of calming scents
evades the space it once enchanted
and the polluted air engulfs my lungs
the nourishing lavender and rose-hip tones

escape me

and I’m running through these woods
yet

trees upon trees upon trees upon
mountains
surround me

and I’m still running through these woods
yet

running from these demons I don’t even know the names of

tearing through dry leaves
and fresh weeds

I will
until
I get to the garden

To cultivate
is to nourish
and that’s where
you’ll eventually find me

but right now
I’m not there yet,

I’m still running
through these woods
yet
carving out a clear route
for a garden to flourish

3 thoughts on “Through the Woods

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