IKIGAI

Weary, tired,

Of the bustles that my head never ceases to hear,

Of the ruffling in my mind,

Where thousands of thoughts

Seem to circle back to one,

From the juggles

That left my feet sore,

I fell on my bed.

 

Reminiscing about the day,

Tears,

Shallowing tears streamed,

Ideas of perspectives enlarged,

Into darkening forces,

Into a morbid of forceful stops,

Where I eventually give in.

Because,

I want to give up,

The idea of giving in to giving up.

 

But the restless heart is the mind, too.

 

I do stop,

But,

Courage from within pushes me into full morphosis,

I, queen to be,

Might slave today,

Weary of the world,

But never stopping,

 

Who I am.

A queen for me, not the world.

An entire phase of the rapture of what holds me together,

To visit my tomorrow,

In enlightenment, not in sorrow,

 

My ikigai.