where the writers are
Letting Go

Strange. How it feels to let go.

Silence envelops me.

Not the graveyard silence.

The walking a tightrope thousands of feet

above the ground, really focused and alert

silence. 

 

I didn’t know until a few nano-seconds before

I let go, my wanting to love you had become

a desperate, cloying death grip.

For love’s sake, I had to release you.

So I did.

 

Strange. How it feels letting go.

Peace envelops me.

Not the peaceful resignation that follows the ending of things.

THE ANY MOMENT I MIGHT MUTATE INTO A

BEING OF LIGHT peace.

 

Strange.