Aren't titles really the misleading thing

There are most likely a variety of knots
lying in each of our hearts
But with all these knots they relate in one way
they are you not
Accumulated past scooped into a ball of pain
Sitting in you
Day by day increasing in strain
Straining to the point that it turns your brain
from sane to in
Flipping your sight inside out

It feels like you're lost
You wander through plains of emptiness feeling sad
Like a ghost
Your existence orbits around bad
You think you've lost something you've had
When you had nothing all along
You believe you're weak
when you are strong

Well I'm here to say it's a crock
you're just fine
and it's all being watched
Dive into your own love that isn't so separate at all
Its not too short it's not too tall
It's just a ball of humor sitting in a rocking chair
smoking a pipe laughing at our actions
Let yourself become so bare
That you laugh at our distractions
Distractions from that which is always there
Space and life, being height. Vast and right
Nothings wrong all is fine
If I die tomorrow I'd be free

No one looks for pictures in the dark clouds