Dear Tatjana:

Thank you for sharing your poem, I like the sound of it and there is a lot in it. I got rid of all the extra letters in your original post. Here is your poem for clearer reading:

I was enmeshed with all the symptoms,

Infatuated with my angst,

Too blind to hear all of your sermons

And deaf to see you had been there.

Perhaps I’ll grow to be enormous,

Or further push my head in the sand,

With all the grains, I’ll build a fortress,

Or bury a hatchet in my own hand.

I wish I could witness my decline,

To grow no more – just stand, stiff, still,

If I could know for sure it’s time,

I’d shrug off the bad, be pleased with the real.

I need the breast and need the tide,

I need the horseman to reveal

Itself from within my mind,

And wreck what is, and what has been.

Hold on to me, I’ll hold on tight,

I’ll suck the life out of your skin,

Believe me though, I did my time,

I’ll know what’s good, I’ll know what’s sin.

I need the rest and need the wild,

I need the love besides the scream,

I spent years yearning to be kind,

I’ll spend them now, knowing that I win.