The face of why.
The grip of a good bye to an idea that was . . . you.
Who you thought you were is no longer and what you are becoming is . . . painful.
A given even.
Take in the addictions you have craved since birth.
Let out the ones that no longer serve your purpose.
The poison can be caring and it also can lust. Creating dust in the mask of self kindness.
Give nothing to a mind that is driven by snow and madness.
Give everything to the sky that birthed you and will survive long after the skeletons.
Dance in the purple fungus of time and relate to all things even the sadness.
Even the death.
All is all. All is all. All is all and so are you.
All is taken from the example of a mad man.
You wonder if the moon will still hang after these tears are shed.
The smile returns with medicine encrusted in promises the land never intended to make forbidden.
Raped are the medicine men.
Their children’s dreams driven out by desire of more.
The herb takes form of smoke and lets the thoughts trickle back out and they are free again.
Free to take on this look alike. This crazed ego that was given to them by sand.
Breathe in mother Earth, breathe out your idea of mortal.
Take with you the idea that nothing is how it should be and all is as it seems.
The boogie man is real and he was not nurtured by the earth but will ravage it and all who try to dance upon it.
The fog lifts and you see again.
There you are.
In the deep grey of doubt but I see you still.
Come about the way it leaves. Inhale earth medicine received.
Depression can leave.