A machine cannot fix itself.
It needs a mechanic,
a tech,
an expert-
an intellectual with the drive to learn,
an idiot with overconfidence and
a streak of luck.

To be rewired.
To be rearranged.
To be powered off.
To be plugged in.
To be refilled.
To be cleaned.
To be fixed.

A machine must be maintained
by someone else.

I am not a machine.

So why do I expect others
to heal me?

Every step
a stanza,
every breath
a verse.

You were a dog trainer
I was a wolf-
Yet you were shocked I bit you

He was somber for most of his life
Until one day, he simply said no-
He wanted to explore, to be as he is,
Not swallowing storms just to cope.

So he'll make the changes, and drive all the miles,
Blue eyes lighting up in the sun-
Feeling lighter with every breath,
His traveling soul on the run.

He’ll gather stories of a life well-lived,
Dark days fading into the past-
A history he once held way too tightly,
Now softened by joy at last.

Maybe he’ll sing after drinks at the bar,
Or trade tales with unguarded delight.
And though it’s all so wonderfully new-
You can tell by his face: It’s just right.