I am a shadow of my former self
or my future self
when I stand in a place
or when I run
I never know which way I'm facing,
I never know which shadow I am.

I move only when my shadow moves,
which ever one it may be,
Yet my wish is to remain still
and watch,
maybe the shadow dares to move
on its own accord,
But when I look down
my shoes
blend with the impenetrable darkness,
and when I look up
I am blinded
by the light that I cannot see,
I do not know which shadow is longer
and which is denser,
but I do know that the best part of me
hides
somewhere between them,
in plain view
like a lamppost.

We pass over to see what's on the other side
- They say that the grass is always greener
and I haven't seen vibrant colors in so long.
This melancholy feeling of fate
and choice is paralyzing
and uplifting.  

Cross over
the same spot that many before
found a dead end carved out by a stream.
Instead, they sat by the tallest tree
and divulged their secrets -
oh if the leaves could talk!

The water under the bridge
lies beneath to be forgotten.
But it flows steady
so that deer and pheasants can sip;
the splashing, rippling tide
echoes like our footsteps
as we pass into oblivion.

Once our feet hit the ground,
we take note of those around:
those who stayed behind
are the dandelion seeds surrounding us, drifting in the wind.
those who joined us
are the trees lined along the path.

If you try to back-track,
you'll find that the bridge can only be crossed once.

I'm slowly learning how to stop letting my fear get in the way of my happiness,
Not letting the past affect my opinion of the woman I am today.

Strong, Passionate, Resilient.

And not letting others validate who I am now or where I am going.

I no longer follow anyone else rules or guidebooks to live my life, my choices, mistakes and successes are mine to grieve, fix or celebrate.

So I'm letting go of the fear that controlled my vindictive behavior, and I'm embracing the woman I am and aspire to be.

My biggest form of shame
Is how often I give up on today
How soon I dread tomorrow
I feel guilt in my weakness

The present is a gift I can't open