On Kidney Stones and Lies

No matter how long you push them down,

They keep floating like bubbles around.

Rising to the surface when you’re tired from the strain,

They don’t really care if you lose or you gain.

You wish to transcend, to be stoic and indifferent.

But they’d rather have it honest, awkward, and literate.

The unsaid words – those little bastards –

They harden over time, not like jelly or custards,

But like kidney stones – do you know what I mean?

The pain that comes from a blockage in the stream.

And if I remember correctly from physics,

This is how we lose the flow of our lyrics.

The pulse of our narrative,

The passage of life,

The stream of our consciousness, keeping us alive.

Well, I am a pharmacist, so you should listen when I say,

There is only so much you can sedate your pain.

The pain that marks any crack in your heart,

Any abandoned thought and any ignored knot,

It hardens, solidifies, and obstructs the air,

When it comes to you, my dear, nothing goes away.

And it’s only after the bravery of letting them loose,

That life starts flowing with the slightest of clues.

Taking you for a Waltz,

Floating through your story,

You see when you open those eyes,

Liberation is as simple as saying “I’m sorry.”