The Dichotomy
March, march, march,
To your death you march.
Quickly or slowly- you march,
Fear and helplessness as your
God.
Give me a pill, you say,
That will make me ‘better’.
Cut out this part, so I can
live-
Live better without my part.
You say you want to get
better,
And we hear what you say, but
How can you live better,
Taking poison and cutting out
parts?
What you are doing by your
actions,
Doesn’t match what you’re
saying .
If you want to get better,
You shouldn’t take poison.
Perhaps you shouldn’t have
body parts,
Taken out and thrown in the
trash.
Or have radio-active rays shot
into you,
Or ‘dyes’ injected into your
veins.
You could try honoring your
body,
Taking care of it as if you
loved it.
Realizing that you are the
healer,
A co-creator with God.
Maybe you could take
responsibility,
For what you put into it,
Maybe you could stop killing
yourself,
While saying ‘I want to get
better’.
The answer is always,
Giving your body what it
needs.
It doesn’t need poison and
drugs.
What it needs is for you to
love it.
