My mind is a tangle of complex roots,
That intertwine and wrap around,
Like the branches of a tree.
They dig deep into places that even I,
Want to but fear to know;
Because a vault of dark secrets hide there.
No matter what I go through,
Despite all the complications I’ve endured,
My mind is still young and fresh,
Open to any troublesome thoughts,
Open to hurt and sorrow.
Confusion, you see I have been stupid.
A fool who took too long to be a person.
What doesn’t make sense now,
Makes sense in the future; near or far.