Locked in a patterning of experience
I float between panels of descriptive visuals
Some of which I am present in
And most of which I was once.
Fighting the fight against the fight, my mind, a battlefield soiled with the havoc from errors
that periodically hunt my soul in its wit for a truce.
A truce with myself: to let be and let go.
Desiring everything all at once but the mirror paints me a clown.
It whispers, “you are your greatest lesson and you shall continue to learn, from the good and the bad, over and over again.”
I can’t…escape myself, so I stop.
I catch my breath from the race against my shadow,
swelling and deflating
as I settle into my skin
…..in acceptance.