Comfort is not the cure

Sometimes I’d prefer to pollute my thoughts 
Than face the silence of existence  

The noise is too deep

Too corrosive, burning away the wall that I’ve built

All is questioned, and the responsibility becomes too much to bear

Too much weight, too little time, too many thoughts, no clear line 

Do you know how many poems I’ve thrown away?

How many ideas I’ve suppressed

Suffocating with the creations of others, it’s easier this way

To remain in safety, a far distance away

If it’s all mine too bear, I promise I will

I’ll grow, face my fears 

Fight the demons, conquer the years 

Time is precious, I know this now 

Everyday, every hour, conquering the weakness that is innate

No excuses, only uses

Use my hands, and fill my mind

Take my hand, and claim what’s mine