The Good

The need to scream, to throw it all away.

Feelings rise and fall in synchrony, like tide and wave.

I want to be good. I want to be better. As Bianconi said: quest’uomo cerca il bene — this man seeks the good.

I just want to do good, for me, for those I love.

But I keep getting pulled, tested.

Doubts creep in: How can I help another’s mind when I can’t heal my own?

How can I speak of calm when I punch through the table, first in anger, then numb, then drowning in the flood of guilt?

I’m just searching for the good, to be good.

I need resilience — a medicine only I can make, to mend the “I” that meets my soul.