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Quicksand


I've listed my faults,
gathered my failings
into one nice tidy box,
but they are just words:
routine,
empty.
formless,
plucked from air
(and a dictionary)
with gutsy optimism
that they are something
to grasp on to.

But labels are funny things,
defining choices,
narrowing the flow,
creating an invisible prison
devoid of chance,
bereft of choice;
the type of place fit only
for automatons
and guilt.

I would walk away from it all,
step outside the ring of lies,
the polluted stream
of fevered dreams
and cravings for certainty
in an unsure world.
There is nothing here
but quicksand
and illusion.

The body succumbs to temptation,
but the mind can choose
to be free.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

4 comments:

Jae Rose said...

Guilt is the most treacherous quicksand..I like how it infests..feeds itself from the dictionary...I also like how it was in the box at the end..

February 9, 2014 at 11:17 AM
Belva Rae Staples said...

I'd take that list in the box and bury it. You are brave to even make the list. Most wouldn't bother or dare.

February 9, 2014 at 4:18 PM
Old Egg said...

Faults should worry other people more than they worry you. True friendships is loving friends despite their faults. Throw away that list of yours. Accept your friends too despite their faults!

February 9, 2014 at 4:53 PM
Alice Audrey said...

What if it turned out this quicksand is actually our reality?

February 10, 2014 at 8:10 PM

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