the shining

There is a hole inside, there is lack of love. I do not know why I am thinking familiar thoughts. Feeling as if I will never shake them off, the cold of being without again, I even wonder if I ever will live without these feelings for they are older than I am. There are no role models in my life. I am my own hero, I am the warrior, and I have chosen my own path. I will reap the rewards for the hardship, for the dislocation of my explanation and for the solitary confinements of my outward face. The closer I grow towards others and the more included I seem to become, the louder the separation is and the tearing away inside. Like a truth ringing out so clear in my mind. It is clanging like cold iron and screaming at me. A brimming of tears, a child that wants to black it all out, an adult that knows he cannot. The moon will light up the path, show me my road in the dark, gradually I will see the beauty of it wrought beneath my feet and know it is all my own, this path is my home, twisting and turning. However much I want to live the life they have, live the simplicity of destiny on which they thrive, I realize that I am the shining and everything else is dull and rusting. I will die inside many times and yet live my life a thousand fold.