Amid the noise and table of double digits,
All participating in a sangria cheers.
A laughter and enjoyment I must transcend,
I look, and I see you there.
A single carnation, wine glass backdrop,
Empty vessel with purity as it’s void.
A bright pink, passion filled beauty,
With her graceful solitude, I identify and join.
A center of focus,
She’s soft to the touch.
Visual details refined to perfection,
God’s hand reached out to quell alcoholic lust.
pic: my collection
I often know trouble when I see it.
I can recognize it afar off.
Yet I typically go running in its direction.
Why? I – know – not!
If there is a risk to be taken,
Considering minimal probability of death.
I sometimes jump right in,
Just close my eyes and hold my breath.
Some call it self-destructive.
Okay, perhaps they have a case.
Some call it self sabotage,
Two coin sides, same face.
These days I’m less inclined to chase after,
That which is certain to cause pain.
But there’s this secret place within,
Seeking freedom from safety’s chains.
Perhaps a nod to my past.
Perhaps a denial of my future.
Either way I need help keeping her in check.
I can’t succumb to destruction’s allure.
Note: I have noooooo idea where the words “freedom from safety’s chains” came from!!! I talk about a lot of chains in my writings (fear, addiction etc)- but I think I dig safety… So…. Hmmmm. End note.