The Seed

My brains holds a seed of torment
that shakes me to my soul,
exploding into a million pieces
of which I have no control.

The sameness of my daily life
has no clear destination,
Just a few sentences on a piece of paper
is my life's declaration.

I mop, I sweep, I dust
I do the dirty dishes,
all while contemplating
all my superficial wishes.

I wonder why the secrets
of my fantasies are no more,
As I pick up the wet towel
someone again threw on the floor.

While my child is sleeping
and my husbands in another room,
I sit out on our doorstep
engulfed with deep despair and gloom.

Yet I can't even answer
the questions in my mind,
Of what it is I long for
what it is that I must find.

It is not another husband
or another form of life,
For the two things I love most
are being a mother and his wife.

What I ask for is peace
and serene tranquility
A fulfillment of the heart
of which I do not see.

A break from reality
is what I think I need,
A padded room being observed
where someone else holds the key.
To unlock this genetic confusion
that oh so troubles me.

It has followed me since childbirth
created in my mother's womb,
An uneven way of thinking
that found its way to bloom.

I have never been able to tame it
or put it in its place,
For every morning I can see it
still etched upon my face.

If I carry it to my grave
I pray it leaves me there,
And when I am awakened
I hope I am repaired.