This, once again, is that moment
Whence so many times before
my shadowed self, so cleverly disguised
sets fire to progress
Preferring to feed at the trough of repression
Than to unwind the painful nature of the past

Afraid to see myself,

unfiltered

In the unyielding light of the day

and instead, choosing to destroy lest I take honest inventory


Yet, this IS that moment, delightfully so
For somehow, by mere recognition
it is my shadow that is no longer disguised,

but instead,

laid bare

By the light of the day,

and I, struck by the contrast,
put down the match
and stand comfortably beside myself
ready to build a bridge, rather than
burn one down