Have I plumbed the darkness?
Found the secrets in the depths?
Truly felt my sadness and fear and anger?
Do I need to?
Am I ready to stop trying to accept
Trying to surrender
Trying to let go
Trying to find answers
Trying to believe
Trying to be loved
Trying trying trying?
Do I love myself enough?
How much is enough?
Is it enough just to be?
I brandish my sword almost incessantly
At other fleeing moments, it vanishes
And I feel free and it is so clear
That to love and to be is enough
Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t
Maybe that’s just another brain crutch
Another butterfly to watch flutter away
Leaving me hollow
But it’s clear that I’ll stay in this searing crucible
Not knowing whether I will fry
Or be fired to a solid form