I stand balanced on a precipice, quarreling with the idea of letting go
The act feels delicious, simple, and yet excruciatingly hard, all in the same breath.
Who would I be without this false sense of control?
Would I even recognize my pure essence gazing back at me?
I begin to peel off my defensive layers like an old worn out coat.
The shift is coming and I know I will never be the same.
My white knuckles release their steadfast and artificial grip.
I have offered up my fragments and am completely whole.