Fertile Mess

I wrestle in the mud that’s been fertilized

with the shit tossed in to create a fertile ground of pain that supposedly holds

so much potential for transformation

I’m told that if I struggle long enough

in this mess every day It will be worth it

So I claw through, slip and slide,

falling harder than I did the previous times

grit plugs up my fingernails

pushing past the quick, breaking past

skin and vascular structures

pushing on exposed nerves and overstuffing until more wounds form where no one can see