fork in the road


my feet are in first position
as I stand in ballerina stance
ive only brought with me what my heart and head can accommodate
the itch of uncertainty is spreading under my skin
shortness of breath causes me not to move forward
bleeding fist from where ive fought myself wont allow me to look back
familiarity screams my name and pulls my hair with vulgarity
fondles memories with affectionate violence
grabs my hand with conviction
leading me
as my strides become heavy
into uncharted territory
the feeling of a recognizable presence leaves
loosening the grip on my soul
the smell of new sunrises entices my nose
allowing nervousness to settle in my stomach like digested food
lusting after virgin ground
my mind is fractioned like hard math
rereading my purpose like im dyslexic

Nkenge Jones

http://bathroompoet.net