It is at once frightening and familiar
A calculated risk
An old friend or an enemy
That I can’t decide
I have come so far
But there are still more steps to take
More sentences in the story
More pages to fill
And covers to bind
I imagine a beige book
With a red ribbon book mark
Thick blue ink
And rich vellum paper
Doughy like fresh bread
Just like home - my place of being
I do not want my brain to rot
I want to see the clouds passing in the sky
To hear the owl hooting in the trees
Just as I wake up and make tea
I want to walk without shaking
Dream without sweating
Stop waking up in a panic I cannot explain
Perhaps I was curious
Perhaps I was unwell
Treading over past thoughts and scares
But I know I cannot return to that dark place
I must keep moving forward
Enjoying my small pleasures
See the moon illuminate the sky
Feel the sun warming my bones again
Feed my brain - not destroy it
I will stay on the wise path, of that I am certain
And that thought makes my happy
Happier than the false chills of a brief hallucinatory delight.
