Get Back In. {Poem}

I got back in yesterday.

I don’t know why I stopped for a while.

I forgot how good it feels.

It’s like going home.

I breathe the fullest under there.

I feel my strongest.

When I get out, I walk taller.

I’m softer, kinder; I think in a line.

Everything makes sense.

All the dark stuff and the dark people, they become just a bad dream; I’m safe.

I can relax.

Getting back in allowed me to do what I did last night;

I brought people back inside themselves and then inside someone else.

I beat myself up for not being my best self sometimes,

For falling into insecure judgment and immature action.

But, if I keep shaming myself for a momentary lapse,

I’ll never get back in like I did yesterday.

My heart is pure, but I’m not, not all the time: who is?

As I somersaulted at the ledge, I remembered:

It’s ok to channel the sacred and the sacrilege.

It doesn’t make me a phony or fake,

It makes me a deliberate, complicated mistake.

See, that’s how he made me and that’s how he made you.

That’s the challenge of it:

To get back in after we’ve gotten out for a while.



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