Strings of Control

Color My Palate

Late into the night
Early in the morning
Noon when the sun is high
high above my head
I think about it!
With soft tender eyes--
The possibility
One that I spent so many years 
carefully evading
I sit on my honey-brown leather couch
And dream each day what would it be like
Will it be easy, hard, challenging, free
Exciting, calm, frustrating, exhausting?
Just then, the very moment I smile--
They fly in
like irritating bites, they sting and itch
I try to ignore each one to ensure my skin isn't broken
But they stay for days
Demanding my attention
Until I scratch 
scratch the surface
Fear
A constant reminder that I am human
and don't have control over this--
over Anything
I scratch in hopes of releasing it
yet it lingers, 
the air about me
Desire You push push me to expect To believe And I want to…

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