In Circles

Funny how life turns in circles.

How we come back around to the same lesson

The same story.

The same drama living inside us.

It happens without our knowing

While we sleep

And dream.

The circle comes back around.

My life is a series of concentric circles

Flowing outward and into each other.

Yours is too, if you didn’t know.

I am bound to something

Something inescapable

Something which breathes a life
Greater than the one I have known.

It is on the other side of this old cycle.

Remembering never to underestimate

The enemy within,

Nor the soul

Which knows its true North

No matter what.

Spinning round we go

Ever deeper into the meat of things

The real gist. 

My depression lives 

In that liminal space 

Between Winter and Spring.

It is never very loud.

But when the frost is fading

And the bulbs are nipping at the soil,

That’s when it rears its head.

I lose faith.

I begin to give up

When it seems that my truth

Is a lie;

And each time I come back around.

Riding the circle.

Laughing at my forgetfulness.

Weeping at my struggle.

Though I falter,

Though writing becomes a chore,

A burden,

A shackle,

If I live to see it die,

If my father does not see me

Become the being I am destined to be,

I will never forgive myself.

I could never forgive myself.

I’m sorry for forgetting. 

So many times.

Again and again.

But I suppose that is the nature of life.

Always spinning in circles.

And sometimes it’s easy to get dizzy.


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