But There Is A Child
A poem
I’m the muse of the devil
Watching me struggle
Mental and physical battles
Should be within my control
But it’s me not you
As the old line goes
There’s a bug in my brain
It has a hold on what I hold dear
I want to thrive
I need to breath
I want to be free
What does that mean?
Free? Freedom? For what?
To do what?
What will even be happening
In a year? A month?
Cognitive dissonance thick as mud
It feels like my brain is rotting
Nerves shot to the stars and back
But there is a child.
I will keep living, moving forward
Forward trajectory, not upward
Watching each day rise
With that first cigarette
Continuing to grapple with
What it means to be here
Kelsea Daulton is a freelance writer and editor. She writes about books and holistic health, including mental health, spirituality, and personal development. She also writes poetry and short stories. To read more of her work, please consider signing up for a Medium membership through her referral link.
