178. Enlightenment

The elders prescribed me remedies.
Strange was their belief of myself,
When their costumes wouldn't fit me.

They forced hands around my throat,
Hoping to mold me back to "normal."
Alas, I was diagnosed as deviance.

Shame begged me take initiative,
To carve myself into their image,
I had knives cut me into shape.

I closed my eyes to turn away from okay,
Lying unburied near the Grim Reaper,
Offering my blood to feed the soil.

But now Death feared me,
Trapping himself back in Hell,
As he saw me rejoice in the anemia.

A new "self" began forming.
"Superior" than before,
Sensitive to bursting.
Insensitive to "I."

My reflection scared me more than Satan.
Covering the lake with holy deeds.
So "I" could never be seen.

I began inviting breathing Bodhisattvas,
Letting them illuminate my false paradise.
Allowing me to see there is no Hell to fear.

Letting go the dream of  a "better" me,
Allowing it to sink into Sunyata,
Feeling love never absent.

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