Quest for Hardening a Soft Spot
Peeled eyes, clumsy hands
stubborn heart, late at night
can’t think right, so I write
Confusion and fear
over a million years
that seem not enough
for a cluttered mind to clear
I sought comfort, a sign
in cheesy inspo lines
just because they rhymed
but answers I can’t find
Mind gamers like to play
when you’re at your worst
when your highs are low
when vulnerability shows
Ignoring the ache I stay
convinced I’ll be okay
’cause I’m hopeless
and it’s senseless
and I’ve wondered
why hasn’t this
soft spot hardened?
How many times
do the mind games
need to be pardoned?