written by: Courtney Trowman aka CC Bella
I cut my hands and teeth on light through the windowpanes that held me in.
The constant condensation, a consistent metaphor I needed to see.
In seeking to make amends I kneeled, apologizing 108 times to my splintered flame;
a self-imposed interlude of navel-gazing.
Unintentionally yet divinely designed to unravel a tangled matrix of expectation.
I walked off the magnificent miles of good intentions in the English rain.
In and through trying to move beyond colossal masses of self-retribution.
I returned, making figure eights through a rotation of out of state plates.
Looking to set myself free as previously done
through the faithful thrill of chasing infinity’s allure.
Now, coasting the curves of low country creeks grounds me infinitely instead.
I hold up my glass, no longer chasing.
The bubbles tickle my tongue, pilfering sweet congratulations
Through the active carbonation an accurate consolation; I see what I needed.