Cling

The sharp knife of simplicity cut a transverse incision through my scalp. The hands of hope gutted out my psyche, deconstructed my mind, and organized it into a coherent tumor that fills the gap once deep in my brain. Taught to have nothing thoughts and empty prayers, which was once so overcomplicated to witness from my old distant eyes. When I would stare at paper to see a blank page ready to be congested and crowded with the temporary potential that lives everywhere. Waiting for all the possibilities to be printed out before me, but none of them ever came. I tried to interpret particles as strings and claimed motion behind the stillest of objects. But all of my theories slipped into the dust of insecurity and washed away into the pool of vanity. But no longer am I maneuvering through seldom places. No longer do I act stiff and unwieldy as a newborn child. No longer do I try to find fractions of life to store in time capsules. No longer am I planting the grave in which I will be buried. And no longer am I treading in water, wishing for the security of seabed to appear at my feet. Now I am one with the roads that take me to the destinations I crave to go. I am one with the ambition a wave possesses when it’s pushed to shore; that single endpoint. That deadline that will never be met. The range of probabilities never to be considered. Those stars that are never to be discovered. The boats that have capsized before ever meeting land. It all fades away before me. Shedding off these unneeded layers that once consumed my life. Unraveling and revealing to me the fundamental nature of humanity. Compressing into a hot light of quiet clarity. Compact and intact with the buoyant atmosphere around me. Once so full of dread and mistrust, I could barely breathe. Constantly and comfortably, I am consistently confident that the present day will continue to bring coherence, certainty, and calmness to the storms that will carry onward when I am no longer clinging onto the consequences and complexities of the future.