Two Truths
Photo from Rumeysa Demir via Pexels.
I once believed despair
Was the truest thing about me
The one inheritance I could not refuse
But the longer I stay alive,
The more I understand
Despair is only loyal
Because it fears being replaced
There are mornings, rare mornings,
When the light touches my face
As if it recognizes me
When I feel the outline of a life
I have not yet lived
It is small
Barely there
A pulse under the silence
But it is enough to make me rise one more time
Carrying both the ruin
And the possibility
Like two truths
That refuse to let go
