Facing Yourself

So much of life is binary,
yes or no,
like or dislike,
straight or turn,
now or later.
Decisions trip at a clip,
and you happily move towards oblivion.

Then, in one day, you start wrestling yourself.
You stand toe to toe with someone you've barely glanced at,
belly to belly with your own heartbeat,
eyes locked on mirrored eyes,
searching and scanning for a glint of bolder truth.

Is this the love you should feel?
Is this the love you should deny?
Is this the house you should call home?
Is this the city where you can nestle your soul?
Is this the job that fuels your backbone?
Are these the people who will raise you higher?

Does the timeline of your life
match the timeline of your most fierce and hungry dreams?

And nothing seems simple,
your future flipflops in a breathy chest.
You hunt for signs in lampposts and lawn clover.
You wander and pluck through the woods until
one sentence circles around your dirty feet:
love the whispered wish most ferociously,
listen to the desire on the edge of its death.

And then, gently, so quietly and sure,
you turn away from your smaller self,
and walk into the big skin
that's been waiting for you to finally show up,
shed of everything but raw, sweet ready.