120


sometimes we wait,
because we fear
the pain of leaving the past behind,
letting go of sorrows long-suffered
in silence, choosing instead
to pass the time
with tit-for-tat pettiness and denial
we’ve masked with hollow smiles
and prideful stubborness

we can turn away,
run as fast as we can
back to the safety
of the devils we know,
settle into the comfort and certainty
only broken trust can bring

we can fight
until our bodies fail us,
challenge the repressed whispers
of hearts wanting more
than a return to the status quo,
of souls trembling
at the sight of a sequel
we know is in the works

sometimes we wait
and miss what’s standing
right in front of us,
dismiss honesty and something better
as usurpers of thrones
belonging to fantasies
we no longer believe in

sometimes we wait
when all we should do
is move forward

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115


driving these winding roads,
racing from moment to moment,
racing from this
and that,
and always just passing through;
i’ve begun to wonder
when i’ll slow down
and where

more and more,
i question: why?
is it just me?
where is my heart,
where is it taking me?
does it know
what it seeks?

life has a funny way
of distracting us,
of making us doubt
who we are,
of challenging
what we think we know
and want;
it’s perverse
and uncomfortable,
but, i suppose,
that’s why this is called
growth

sometimes,
all we really seek
is a little room to breathe,
a momentary pause
along the way,
a chance to stop
and enjoy the view