my vacillating heart can’t decide
if it’s joyous or despairing completely.
the not-so-secret secret is:
I’m pushing up against my own desires and fears
(often made of the same stuff),
finding the edges and exploring there.
not what I expect.
never what I expect.
everything feels stolen,
I am suddenly aflame with myself
with desire and the abundance of my fervor.
then I remember. then I worry.
am I worthy?
can I do this? I’m taking risks I’m not sure I can afford.
it’s chafing me, chasing me,
each breath is labored and I’m straining
I’m failing again,
finding myself deep in the pit of my despair
I sink and wallow.
I give up.
one moment at a time is the only way anything happens.
let yourself feel it, I whisper to myself,