that have carried me this far.
I would betray myself
and my past.
Be-tray — the foundation, the load-bearer.
Be-ray — warmly stretching
to every corner of space.
Be the now.
Living between the regret of the past
and the fantasy of the future,
the present becomes quicksand.
Every step forward
is like leaving home,
and the guilt of moving away
from what once held me.
In this tug of war,
the human essence of change,
the metamorphosis,
remains unprocessed.
Denying change,
I remain unintegrated.
My feelings remain submerged,
and like the Titanic,
the love, care, and safety of others
are lost.
The shame of devouring it
never allows me
to reach the shore.
I stop change
by being still,
sitting in denial of change.
Being loyal to the past,
admiring it
long past its time.
Am I ready for the whirlwind
that rests underneath,
destroying itself
and everything it touches?
Or am I ready
to be the waves
others can meet?
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