parts of me

i killed a part of me; maybe parts of me. i know of the writer in me whom i killed and i know of the painter in me that i killed. how many more lay dead within me? the result of my pride, my ego, my fear and all the virtues that eat me. i wonder how many more are still to die.

maybe i should give birth to new parts. learn to sing, to dance and enjoy life. maybe i can create a new part that writes.

i do regret and am sorry for all the parts i killed. but today, today we give birth to a new part.