Running and Dancing

Sometimes,

I am carelessly honest,

dangerous with my words

as if I am my own prosecutor.

other times,

I shy away,

stuck in the past,

memories relived

the accusations

reapplied.

Where do you go,

when the sentence

has no ending,

and captivity

has no justice.

Spare me the cliches,

for the truth

lies underneath

the shallowness.

There is an ocean

of grace,

sometimes I step back,

afraid of the cold,

warming myself with my own

stillness

before

again,

I dive into it's

healing.

And,

So,

as one

we gather our love,

we drape it over

each other's shoulders,

we stand,

upright,

and celebrate.

We are still running that race,

we are still dancing that dance,

and we are still here.