what growth

how neat.
what growth.

what fearlessness
to stay here, to stand
steady

at the very real risk of losing
someone I love.

to witness
my resistance, my fight
for control, oh the urgency
to flee first

to blame. to write my own story.

and my ability to sit, to just
sit. to not
decide, to not
influence, instead to become

immoveable.

how fucking strong I’ve grown, that I
can hold all these truths inside of my one being, yours
and mine. that I can let go, let you
carry yours

how fucking strong I am, to trust
that what is meant for me will never
miss me

& that there really is no rush.

how neat.
what growth.