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.