I thought I had
all the time in the world
to fix it
so I turned my back on it
with half a mind
that I’d get back to it later
when the smoke had cleared
when the hurt was done hurting
when time had done its work
and we were back to being happy
at a later time,
another place

so I left it
to the mercy of the weather
until weeds grew around it
and I almost forgot
if it weren’t for
the letter branded on my heart
that reminded me often enough
who I had once been
and no matter where,
or how far
I got,
there was always
that part of me I left behind
wanting to be absolved
singing by itself
waiting for the final notes,
the outro chords
of closure

I was of the illusion
there was a state of mind
far enough away
for me to be free
of its grasp
but there is no short cut
to grace
and emancipation through wisdom
still awaits


(to be continued)