Keeping up with the upkeep

Plausable deniability of all the things you were never meant to understand.

I never pull punches right, and asking for them is a different kind of torture, I’ve come to know.
Taking righteousness from learned panic responses, fixating on every tense of time, and losing out on the one thing I would always save face on—me.

I can’t be the bad person.
The one in the wrong.
Bearer of guilt, for I can do it all.

I can lose faith too, dragging my heels down to where I belong. Right on your doorstep, but with no strength to kick it in.
You can lose faith too, you know.

It comes with the rain, a sudden wash, and you can be new, too.
”It’s just the seasons” — they all say.
But nothing ever passes, time only moves. For you are never linear, nor more than a speck of dust in a chasm of inertia—it’s your duty to keep along w/ it.

But when there’s no more strikes to take, cavities to fill…even doors to kick in.
There’s still songs to sing, birds to compete with, faiths to believe in.

I never considered myself a spiritual person until recently, some things feel silly to deny. The idea that something is more than me, and breathes alongside me—feels more natural than to live without it.
It is there regardless, just up to an equal perception of both you, and something more—if you please.

And into timings of how some things just work after a while. Strength you would think is just atrophy at this point comes back rather fast.
It doesn’t take time, it’s there always, regardless. But acting upon your paralysis seems counter-intuitive…do you become it?
It takes you, with both hands now too, like a caress…like a mending hand, a loving one—it wasn’t familiar until the seconds follow. An embrace that is finally familiar enough that there leaves no question, no seconded guess, no one telling you how it was—you only know for what it is, and that it is now ever flowing. Like the creeks, like the passage of time.

Something so easy to fixate on, you lose track that maybe you should be not watching it, but acting through a force that is so much bigger than comprehension. Be at peace with it,

You have finally found home.

And thank it, too.

-alice