Cotton Mind
 
Unconscious incompetence:
 
I’m repeating the same self-destructive patterns.
Draining me from the tiny drops of energy 
that started to appear again on my dry lifeless desert
slowly but surely bringing life back to my half-dead seedlings.
 
Is is naivety to keep offering my truth to people
Quietly, unintentionally (?) asking for love and affection. 
People who clearly don’t want it
And unintentionally (?) mix my truth with their poisonous fear 
Cutting my heart with a precise samurai sword.
 
I clean the ashes from my surprised face. I gather what’s left from me.
Pieces of soft cotton mind and heart.
 
‘Here it is’ - I say. - ‘I’m sorry it’s a bit messy. 
It’s the purest and truest I’m capable of’

 
Conscious incompetence:
 
Repeated copies of a matrix.
Little child trapped in the body of a woman.
 
I clean the ashes from my not-so-surprised face. I gather what’s left from me.
Pieces of soft cotton mind and heart.
 
And I cuddle it gently and lovingly.