Just let go.
I know it's just that simple- to just release, "relinquish", give it up.
To not give it more power or meaning than it really has.
To not get wrapped up in a story starring me.
But...
Dark lips move behind smoldering eyes, a puffy white flash smeared in red yawns in slow motion. I taste metal. I still breathe bitter and liquid.
Wild-haired and slack-jawed, I rinse torn skin over and over again in my dreams,
But I cannot seem to wash it away.
And so, I wonder though these images have taken a life and a command their own: if I can learn what I am supposed to learn, simply find the right perspective...
Can they hold me ever less captive in their grasp?
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