In the past few days I’ve relocated my strained self to a more relinquished place. I can seem to find time laying down large hordes of green blades and turning to wrap my body in cool, killing shade.
Is my existence at this exact moment the place I should be? Is there something different I should have done? Does every bit of what’s happened need to be in such order I can’t reveal to myself why my past haunts me as I dive farther in? Forgiveness is the hardest thing I could allow in to my blessings, resting scenes, the dressing around my abdomen.
How do I release the collapsing star into its own cosmic dust? And, will I ever be allowed the same joyous life which appears to be given to every one else except me?
From this I find my mind wandering in circles (or squares), retracing the corners which hurt most and attempting to redraw the scene exactly the way I want it to be. Forward motions, I now find, are the only things that have let me erase the deepening scar of heartless cards.
