There is a deep ball of tangled strings
It is curly
It is messy
It is interlaced with one another
Constantly pushing and pulling
Fighting to be heard
Each with their own strengths and weakness
They are different and yet
There is a certainty that they share
It is that they are loud
And they live in my mind.
How do I tell
What do I say
I myself do not know
Or have the moment to sit
Cross legged on the floor and untangle it
The more I do
The more I don't know
And I do not which is worse
To face the unknown silence
Or to leave it be as it is
They say I am loud
And quiet at the same time
Perhaps I am loud because I am unable
To hear my own voice
And I have to fight to listen to myself
Or maybe I am quiet
Because even a machine breaks down into silence
When it has been through so much
I do not know
Nor am I brave
But each day I pray
For another day to be strong
To be patient
In trying not only to understand the tangled strings
But also to love it and to tender it with care
Because I know that the world will leave
And that at the end of the day
All I will have
Is myself and those tangled strings
That has made me who I am today
