No Regrets

I seem to be on a poetry cycle lately. It’s nice to write without rules sometimes. So here’s another!

Sometimes she regrets it

Sometimes she wishes she’d stayed

In that lonely lake

Far from danger

Far from the demons

That might rip out her heart

Asking her to eat it

Then commissioning her loved ones

For a taste of theirs

Insisting she would enjoy it

This necessary evil

That would make her real

That would make her strong

 

Sometimes she forgets it

The fear, the loss

The endless pit

With no ladder

The dirt and the grime

Indistinguishable

From her own blood

Her voice speaking words

She didn’t want to hear

A crumbling wall of integrity

Showering her softly

With gifts and complements

And she didn’t turn away

 

Sometimes she neglects it

The ghost she never saw

But how can she ignore it

Hovering weightlessly

In who she’s become

Because she’s overcome

Moved forward beyond

A solid iron bar

Molded from cheap plastic

That once bent at will

It’s hard to hope

The past could rewrite itself

For where would she be without it?

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