I‘m consciously fleeting
While subconsciously fleeing to release myself of feeling free.
Just to view in plain sight- all the little stain specs splattered on the worn ground, as I fell face forward into the
scorn of scattered avenue asphalt.
I only tried to offer liberty from myself?
I failed at running- ended up cross skipping and tripping over the very wire I designed and created to catch the enemy within.
Here I still am.
Barely functioning and living life in a hazed dreamland of a false pretending wonderland, convincing myself that all will work itself out.
When will everything work the fuck out?
There is no grand move or superb decision of knowing which road to take and I’ve learned now it’s all about the path given and what you make of it.
I’ll plow my path.
Reap my way.
Propagate my life.
I’ll rip a vine of myself and breed another being- manifest an ulterior form of growth to be a partial woman of me…
with a fresh story to unfold.
Release my epic that’s never been told.
I learned to separate the sensitive side of myself when duty calls, but contain a hidden fear that It could end in permanence.
It’s a fine line to define...in perfection.
Could I catch myself on the edge of losing myself- or would I divinely fall and latch onto the palm of the catcher in the rye to save the innocence I tackled with fierce devotion to preserve?
I can’t flee
I can’t prevent failing
I always end by falling
I am in shut down to function through life with so much of the unknown ahead and so much to lay aside and hide beneath my bed of dreams.
In order to progress, actively I am allowing my mind to process gain and loss to be held in the same hand dealt-
Let it be.
In the end-
Whatever is meant to be will be.
I’m weary of the constant struggle to keep flight and keep the fight fully alive.
My internal drive has failed me.
Please Awaken the thrive I once knew…
It’s an impassible expectation to bolt in full force while consistently falling at every leap.
Breath. Slow down.
I’ve taken a much wider and slower stride in hopes to spot my traps in time before it’s too late. Stumbling remains inevitable, but it’s more sensible than tumbling over entirely.
I am my own demon’s bait.
There isn’t much in moving forward to act when I lack the proper necessities to obtain and maintain whatever may remain out there solely waiting on me.
This can all seem as a nonsensical ramble and truly:
I can’t be fleeing from life literally,
falling face forward is only hypothetically,
failing at everything, as I lay here living,
and barely functioning between numb and feeling everything?
Into my unremitting pool, flooded by a compound of hopeful and hopeless tears.
Chasing the same damn rabbit down a never ending hole of madness, in search of my own life atlas.
Testing faith to taste the next best thing, to find it’s the next best worst thing.
I’m in an Alice state of mind- losing my voice in deciphering which choice to make. Doomed in falling into a ditch of unstable blackness- as I found myself surrounded by bright colored faceless objects.
Which way shall I go?
Follow the rabbit?
What am I running late for?
my own funeral?
late for my own life?
What drink to drink?
To feel bigger than life?
To feel smaller than life?
What card to pick?
None of which are any luck to me…
Where hid my crown, to be the queen of my own heart and move ahead without fear or any doubt that this too will be another ending of a useless start?
Is the mad hatter a friend or foe?
I’ll never know.
For the time being… I’ll follow ahead to the nearest river and rest assured within the ebb and flow.