The Formula

The Formula
Revved by morning pick me up
I unzip my bag of goodies
Of two minds
What to hold
What not

Mind decants
Willfully what it will
Caring little for my rigor mortis
Post its faux pas revelations
To heal self I must perform
Surgery like soldiers in battle
Stitching wounds on the body
Bleeding in mind, traumatized

I pull thorns of painful memories
From the stems of my rosy past
Sucking ruby red pearls threatening
To drop off edges of thumbs
forefingers, my stitching goes on
Unabated, helplessly I see myself
Exposed, lobotomy must be nice
To achieve eternal sunshine of the mind
I shall wait and see if this will succeed

My bag feels lighter
Shoulders rejoice
Mind contrary
Is of two minds
Fiercely independent

 
Slate of my life
Has formula
Hard to crack
Courage to seek help
I woefully lack

(picture from internet)

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