Heal Me

If you believe, I’ll believe. Do you believe I can heal myself? After the knife stab wound turns wet with blood, there is no return from here. But I hear it, although tiny, I hear his thought.
I believe you can do it.
Then I am pulled, my mind is pulled and stretched, so wide and far reaching. My mind becomes endless sheets, the little information my ego self contained, instantly lost in this vast, endless space.
I believe.
A tiny voice, in the centre of my mind-plane.
I believe.
I believe.
It’s me, or my ego-me. I’m small and like a child, but powerful. My mind-plane is a pale blue, it stretches beyond horizons, fading out and in. Ego-me, heal me. I believe.


2 Comments Add yours

  1. InfiniteZip says:

    Great piece, always listen to the quiet little voice, it knows and serves well😊

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sha'Tara says:

    Healing has so many meanings, and are we not made of beliefs? Isn’t death itself a healing passage? Does the mind not long to be free?
    “Believe all things, believe in nothing.” (Another life mantra)


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