Who Am I?

Mental Health , , ,

I am an iceberg.
What you see on the outside is only the tip
– and an illusion at that.
I am solitary
or bunched with others like me.
I am bright in the dark
and darker in the light.
I am a product of my environment.
Without certain specific conditions,
I am nothing,
I am made of one substance,
but have many different shapes.
For instance, I may be cold and hard on the outside,
but I warm up quickly
and melt into my surroundings.
I am ever-changing.
Some call me beautiful,
some treacherous.
Even staying still,
I can sink boats…
and hearts.

This is where icebergs and I differ.
An iceberg hasn’t a heart.
And I do.
A heart that loves,
that breaks,
that tears itself apart
to find answers,
to fix wounds.

And yet,
I would gladly remove my heart
to be an iceberg
if that is all I had to do.
In decades to come,
I would disappear
– slowly, gradually,
drip by drip,
becoming the earth around me –
because those with hearts
didn’t care to preserve me.
My loss
would be devastating to some
and nothing to others.

Years from then,
it would be like
never existed
at all.
And maybe
never did.

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