I am a ghost stretched between a mind and a body barely able to comprehend the basics of the operating instructions for either but responsible for guiding myself safely under their protection through a firestorm with lighting and thunder and tornadoes while my ephemeral being whips in the gusts, grip slipping but what are my fingers? 

They are frozen and numb and how will I ever hold on? 

I am a grim reaper designed to kill people with words too true for myself to find the courage to utter out of horror for the huge unknown of WHAT WILL YOU THINK OF ME and AM I SAFE TO BE MYSELF AROUND YOU which we all know the answer to that one it is always NO 

I’m not even safe around myself most of the time. 

This crowd in here, they don’t all get along, all the time. 

ANY OF THE TIME. 

Sometimes it looks pretty on the outside. 

Some times I forget about most things. Those are the good times. 

Forgetting is such a blessing. Brings the blessings of the new. 

I can become anew only as I can forget my old. 

Forget yourself

Forget yourself

Forget yourself

Forget yourself

Forget yourself. 

Does everyone’s pain come down to denying an aspect of reality? 

That you can control much of your body. Not your mind?

No matter how strong or fast or smart or unpredictable I am, I will always be vulnerable. 

I accept my vulnerability

I accept my vulnerability. 

I accept my vulnerability.