My neck always hurts these days
So does my heart
It’s like every day I’m reckoning with what humanity is left out there
I’m tired of hanging myself out to dry
I’m tired of fighting battles with my mind
Learning stillness in the grey
I’ve never been good at leaning into life’s inconsistencies
Existing in the space in between,
Living with duality
Is something scary.
Foreign to me.
I want to accept that right and wrong are not real things.
I see now more clearly than ever that poles are fabricated,
Meant to harbor the illusion of control.
How do you exist in a world of right and wrong without allowing them to bear some sort of truth?
It’s not just “right vs wrong” either
It’s boy or girl
Black or white
Sunny or cloudy
If we don’t free ourselves I fear that the collective may forfeit the beauty of the sun-seared clouds altogether.