Excavating the Unconscious

Desperation for Authentic Being by (c) ZPJ Fox 2024
I am so tired fromfakingit.Yet allaround we arecollectively makingimages of ourselvesto present to the world.Beyond impostersI begin to see thematrix lightembracing us alllike a narcoticurging us on topretend.
Maybe if we comeout of the wombof this insidiouslie, we will beraw, strippedand more barethan I couldnumb and yethere, alive at last, life can beginagain and wewill feel thedamage we have done, agreeing to the lie.
Make me whole againI pray.Tear all the flesh from mybones, down to the marrowto the organs withawareness of this corruptionthis flesh of denial.
We make a fantasy thatholds us all inswathes oflove and peace, drawing us intoa hope that oneday we willawaken, as ifborn again.
I've been there.
When I hold myselfin this hopethe anger goes downto my kneesas if pulledinto the groundswallowed in thedarkness of life.Its raw beautyand indifferenceremind me I amhere for a shorttime, So makemy lifethis timeextraordinary.
(c)Ziji 07/08/2024