I have long forgotten
what it is I am afraid of
I have lost
to simply become
the object.
I buy in
it is easier.
I can even follow with
my eyes shut

If I were braver
I would pad my bones
with rounder flesh 
and move new found
in defiance of 
the geometry
of what is
but habit
has been hard to overcome
what is familiar
becomes like a groove
easy to stay in
with sides to pad and comfort
until it is a rut.
my wanting is moving
me away
first in mind,
then in body,
forever in soul

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