8/15/16     2:55pm

Press play.
I don’t have to be okay.
No one can do it but me.
Stop running.
Let myself feel the fear.
Is what I’m afraid of present or a memory?
Memories can’t injure me.
I most often injure myself in an attempt to protect me.

Press play.
I hear the music already.
What about the story?
The story is me.

The sections of painful truth are quiet.
Nothing’s missing.
I want to accept me.
I love me and I hate me.
She scares me but is my one reprieve.
I want to stop hurting me.

Press play.
Move forward.
Change the scene just a little.
I hold the pen.
I can’t erase the past I see every day, the one that fuels me.
The author of my past created me.
I am just a skill.
But I am a skill with a pen, a voice.

I need to start protecting me from me instead of her.
She drew the scenery, coded reactions.
She taught me the steps.
She taught me her steps.
But this is my dance.

PUSH PLAY.
Before you forget.
Before you lose hope.
Before you stop believing.
(look at the trees… rock)
You forgave yourself.
Now let go.
Press the button.
Take a breath & rest.

(stare at the trees)
I get to choose.

Praise God.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2016