My face has blurred in the mirrors.
Can’t recognize much anymore.
It’s this calm time when I get to decide
to be taken away by the painfully glorious waves,
Feel euphoria and proceed to be torn apart –
Or to stand firmly against them,
And I’ve been making the same choice for so long
that even if I choose to stand firmly
all that will be left standing would be my remains,
and I’m not sure what’s left is strong enough to deny the storm’s pulling.
But reminding myself of this
will tear me apart even further;
it’s not a time for weakness.
The storm has grown,
I can hear its melancholy screams in my ears;
the once soft wind crashes on my skin,
leaving blushing splotches of temporary ecstasy.
I know it’s time to make the decision I’ve been postponing.
Do I collapse into the welcoming arms of this monstrous storm once more?
And if I do, will this be my final spin into nothingness?
Do I choose the path I know is sane?
Continue with a windless life?
The question now yells at my face:
Stand firm or fly and die?