Battles

Hindsight is a wonderful thing
— useless, but wonderful

When you look back like an invited guest in your own life and then you can see yourself
what you messed up what others messed up for you
— a bird's eye view of the heart's labyrinth

The mind meanders through
your teens, twenties, thirties
every twelvemonth safely kept and yet out of sight
folded like dry petals inside your breast pocket

Hindsight is wonderful, useless
an amusement for a rainy day when
being distracted by the banalities of others on live TV
just won't do

I took a walk down Memory Lane
I stumbled on a few loose cobbles
I have enough wind on my sails to push me ahead

without a doubt

The knot is undone. The hair, down
and longer now than it's been for a while
All around some kind of emotional ground zero, turquoise

The heart howls in crimson

And for some welcome reason I lost touch with my mania —
ill fitted coats once worn in my mind.
All thoughts now wander unclad

Battles

('pick your battles' — it has sunk in!)

It's just a matter of time until the blind folds
until blindness goes
until the light burns

your pupils back into seeing

No way back — don't want to anyway —
Some time has gone by and I can finally say
there's nothing like
outliving the pain.