Kill

We kill the things we love
we destroy the light we seek
we demolish hope with fear
we determine desire is dead

For loving means naked fear
means daring something new
means holding our hearts open
means staring at a glaring mirror

It scares us to our bones
to feel so raw and real
to risk the vulnerable us
to see the flaws we possess

To be loved regardless
of imperfections we have
in spite of baggage carried
in hope of future bliss

So it’s easier to run and hide
to bury feelings deep inside
to sabotage our potential selves
to repeat old patterns, rehashed

Than shoot for something new
to change the path ahead
to leap before we look
to seek the uncertain instead

We create excuses to please
our inner unworthiness
we look for escape routes
the nearest exit out

Rarely do we sit with love
and let it sink in slow
no panic, just hold it
observe it, and glow

For killing what we love
we feel safe
we feel secure
we feel familiar
within our holes
where we live

But we are anything

but alive

 

~ Emily Clapper*

5.27.16

*myself included, sometimes.

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