Mine to Take
I sip a tall glass
of chilled poison
and call it wine.
I choke on more
than I can chew
but take another
offered bite.
My last breath
surrendered
to justify my lack of air.
After all,
how can I allege force
on a feed that I've permitted?
Red-handed robbers
cover my eyes.
Their sticky fingers point
and poke at my self-doubt.
A stolen sense of self
taken by my failure
to object to its taking.
Wreckage waits
for those
with misplaced worth.
And I am led astray
by the very night
as stars appear within reach
denying the sky’s deceit
as I drown
in its reflection.
But a gentle nudge
turns me inward.
A whispered tide
shifts and shakes,
freeing the voice
from the depths.
The one that's been beating
against the walls
of my self-imposed prison.
Scattered debris,
pity,
doubt,
sabotage
detach from the
self
they once plagued.
And I emerge
like the voice once trapped,
myself but cleansed,
stripped of debris,
baptized by the stars.
I tread the path
to preservation,
step by cautious step
with twists and turns
on the long road ahead.
But I walk with worth,
beneath the stars,
with stars, alone
to lead.
On a path that's mine
and mine alone
to take.
Copyright © Jessica Wheeler | Year Posted 2024
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