Days blur together through a haze of struggle.
I am an automaton with a free spirit at its core.
A core that is malleable on the inside, but is rock hard on the outside,
like a dormant volcano.
The magma and the gases are building pressure.
I need to erupt before the core cools down.
Each day the dream is the same:
I am a reincarnation of a lost soul,
swimming through purgatory to find a destiny buried under primordial ooze.
I can barely breathe, buried under an ocean of darkness.
Nonetheless, I carry on with every ounce of strength.
I was born in mud, but mud slowly cleanses,
smoothing out the cracks and abrasions formed by pain.
I slog through the shit, knowing that my crusty shell will break,
transforming mind and body.
The snake will shed its skin and navigate through the grass.
Then, perhaps, it will finally find its way.
About the Creator
Kourtney Risher
I'm a poet and an aspiring novelist from El Dorado, AR.
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