Below is something I wrote months back but can relate to more now than before for sure. I’m really tired of seeing the same days happen and happen again. But everything hurts in a certain way when you don’t think you belong. When does that stop getting in the way? Or does it ever.
You set the pace and motion
And advance without fear
Through every door – the next and next,
Once similar- then same- and all you see.
Now you are carrying what you had given up,
Repairing – restoring all that was gotten rid of.
How letting go led you a circle
Back to here, back to home.
Every wall has a window shatter edged
Where by every single one you have thrown yourself from,
Yet fall after fall would give you no place else at all
But in grace back to here, back to home.
To hollow whisper of a soul.
The death day is reaching
And though overdone in years –
Always near and never silencing
Its beat of urgency
As your scream was given life and chance to be made whole.
But this hell was meant to happen – they’d left you alone.
Convinced there is a reset, you were raised
Then snatched at the very end. And from that spin out of control,
Beaten mercilessly low…
And brought back to here, my dear.