I can’t tell whether the yearning of what could be comes from what isn’t, or the starts from the tragedies my young heart has endured. I sometimes wonder If those tragedies hadn’t been, who would I be today? It’s not clear if the path of pain was mapped out before my first breath in this world was ever breathed, or when my spirit traveled to become me. I can’t tell whether the yearning stems from the sins of my mother’s past, or the future I once dreamed of. I can’t tell anymore if what I’ve endured was supposed to be a blessing or the curse of she who wasn’t meant to be!
The yearning I experience burns like a fire inside of a tin can. Its hot and demanding as if it’s something I need, something I’ve needed forever. As if the tragedies were meant to mold me for the things that could be. Because I can’t tell anymore, remembering where it all began isn’t clear. The beginning is where I kno I should go back to, to find out if the tragedies my young heart endured was meant to build or break me. It’s unclear weather the spirit I posses landed in my soul by accident or if it was meant to be a cosmic gift.
What I’m yearning for may never be found but might in the end be shaped through the path that pain laid out before me. It’s not clear why the yearning inside me wont die, but the searching… I won’t stop searching for the pieces that make me. -Donnie Sharrell