Broken Habits


“What am I doing?”


A question

of my own actions,

my own motivations.

The epiphany

that I have just moved on.

No longer bound by instinct,

subject of muscle memory.

I look around,

and I am in control.


What a moment of sweet terror.

Now, all that remains

is that mountain ahead,

and I can see it clear

above the trees.


The old bonds,

skin and sinew

holding me back,

wither without blood,

dry up,

and break away.


Even the fondest nails

scratch shallow.

The itch is deeper, now;

it’s in my soul.


Wrap my body up

in layers,

upon layers,

and set out in the cold.

Only hardship and exposure

seem to quell the roar

that lives in me

these days.


I’ve been broken…





HG – 2021

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