I feel like I am slogging my way down a very murky path
doing the fake it til you make it dance.
I feel kinship with the cold, bare trees outside my window.
Except I have a layer of fat - humour still intact, that's gotta be a hopeful thing.
I feel like embracing waiting, being present and grounded are things I am faking.
Embraced is the last thing I want.
So I run the other way and get pissed that I do not run alone.
I want to yell "leave me the fuck alone."
Yet know that will never happen.
Not only does One run by my side but
I am surrounded by a cloud of witnesses,
seen and unseen, cheering me on.
I try to drown out their voices
only to find A voice inside me.
Even so, I try to hide what cannot be hidden.
And I cry because I am embraced
on the murky path,
while fighting to go it alone.