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Crisis

I’m host to a siege carried out in my mind, I feel like the hostage and captor combined. I’ve been taken over by fragments empowered, and I want to break free but I act like a coward.

Feelings inside me have fed on my fears, suddenly living when dormant for years. I’m rejecting my island in search of things better but hurting my family and turning them bitter.

I’m in a small boat far away from the shore which is so far away I can see it no more. I’m tethered by rope and the rope is secure but I know that I can’t stay out here any more.

I have in my hand the sharpest of knives and to cut it will free me but damage some lives and I fear that I’d find with the passage of time that the worst of the damage could happen to mine.

If my hands pull the rope and I head back to shore will I even be welcome back there anymore? And what if I go back and stem the blood flow only later to damage much more if I go?

I’ve heard of islands where the weather is great but something inside says I’ve left it too late. My island is temperate, and has no extremes, are the ones that I look for just fanciful dreams?

Maybe my island is something to cherish or at least is a place where I’m able to flourish.
Maybe those islands that bask in sunshine have men, just like me, that lust after mine

© Andy(ArT)Trigg 2001

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