Letting Go I crave the open sky; A caged bird, I ache for the expanse. Locked tight in gentle longing, The day weeps for my reluctance; "Walk away," it begs. I try to. I try to break the chains, Shatter this desire into nothing, But it fights back. Howling, snarling, A beast stalks through me, And it will not come to heel. I crave the grounding earth, Far adrift, I cannot find its steadiness. Drowning, the beast dines on broken words, And the world weeps for my reluctance; "Forget her," it begs. I try to. I try to block her from my thoughts, Banish the sound of her name, But she haunts me. Whispering, waiting, She tries in drunken confidence to find us peace, But is it even there to find? I crave her lonely touch, And her piercing, harsh refusal. I am awash in a troubled sea, And I weep for my reluctance; "Let go," I beg. I try to. I try to leave her behind, A distant, beautiful shadow, A hollow ghost of past desires. It works, but it hurts, bites, Sinks it's teeth into me and pulls; The beast is breaking loose. Later, she walked by, but the beast had left me, Dragged its claws across my throat. I did not speak, or move, But I wept for my acceptance; "Move on," I urged. I do. I do but I cannot fly, The sky is too wide, The approaching storm roaring, unrelenting. The wild has stolen my voice, stolen her, It has cast off my chains with cruel malice, And it pains me, letting go.