March 15, 2015 § Leave a comment
Clinging to life is a skill learned.
Bred into fear, following needs unmet
Scarcity longs for choice.
It is the choice of Own.
A process of New, freedom from the very
Of false hope requirements.
Are we not, inherently worthy?
Able to See, to Decide, to Love
In the liberty that loss brings
A life clung is a life unlearned.
The lens drenched,
Fault in fog
A pattern’s return.
Are we not, already in chains?
Birthed into a mold of doing
Forgiving mistakes, forgetting to
We are hung by lingering in
The bodies memory, attaching.
Synchronizing defeat to the heart’s
The hour of panic claims its victim
Begging for comfort, seeking
An indulgence of habit.
What is to become, of the life unlearned?
I choose to reap my reprieve.