you always
tell me
to let go
of the past,
but what you
do not realize
is that
i already have;
i am just
waiting
for it
to let go
of me

Take me back
Back to the days
When the world
Was still flat
Back to when
Things
Weren't so much
A matter of fact
Back to when
Imagination
Was a little stronger
Than reality

Acceptance of another requires bravery.
Not the loud, brawling courage
brought and left on the battlefield.
Rather the quiet kind of bravery when
she catches glimpses of my personal darkness
and still stays.
Her type of bravery is when
the fractured light fixtures behind my eyes flicker
before going out, plunging me in darkness.
She sits beside me sharing that dark.
She not only sees my enraged monsters
but tries to befriend them, understand them.
At times I’m deathly afraid of myself.
But she never seems to be.
And that is the greatest kind of bravery.