The Leap

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


A poem, a rant, a way to stay sane. Please leave comments as it is impossible to objective to your own writing!

Submitted: August 02, 2018

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Submitted: August 02, 2018

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Growing up but knowing how to stay young

knowing when to be vulnerable and when to be strong.

Knowing.

Wanting without showing what you want

Wanting to be hidden and wanting to be known.

Conflict within and conflict without

how do two warring personalities work it out?

We rant and rage and tear ourselves,

trying to morph into one whole and complete being.

Is there room for anybody else?

 

Make room,

at the table for dinner

for the stranger on the bus with bags and bags.

Make room in your mind for something new

make room in your life for someone other than you.

 

Not selfishness but fear and unknowing

Fear is sharp and dark and cold

We want the warmth of the fire, its soft glowing light

but not the journey through the strangness of the night

We claw to what is safe and sane and real

forget to feel

and lose our footing and fall

always falling and clawing at the sides

grasping for something stable to hold you still

Just for a minute so I can think, and breath.

Breath and wait, breath and stagnate

Comfort and boredom hold amicable hands

They swing and sway with ease and impotence

The cold clammy sweat of wondering what if and what else, sticking to their skin

Is this the skin we live in? `

 

My skin grows flowers and life and art

It holds me and comforts me and shields me

and hides a softer vulnerable core.

Those cold clammy hands separate

and reach down through the grass to plough through the earth below.

Inhale until it hurts and ask the question:

The question, all the questions

only to realise

you are the answer that you seek.

You hold the power to be strong and to be weak.

You dont know how, you know barely who you are

and you are your own best chance.

 

Standing on a precipice looking down

Talking yourself into jumping,

knowing the water will swallow you and release you

that the fear is all in your head.

But it ties you down, like vines growing from the rocks

enroping you around the waste

trapping you down

and telling you not to go

and you hope that the feel of the world falling away from you feet

means that its worth the leap

makes it worth the sharp cutting of the ties

and often it does not.

 

That is wisdom:

not every leap is worth your time,

not every try is worth a try,

but not trying at all is the slowest way to die

so learn from each other and do not make the same useless leap twice.

 


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