You Can’t Rush Your Healing

I beg myself to be
more generous
more loving
more open.
Free.
Decisive.
Able to throw hats over
fences and catch them
on other sides.

But I look down
holding a hat that’s
been with me for years.
And I bang it against
my face.

I draw blood
but no solutions.

Time
playing a cruel game
as why am I still
sitting
while in my mind
I flew away
but
wings will not carry me.

I wish to be
in water
cleansed
born anew
but water isn’t holy
in a hand that tore
off a cross years ago.

But I’m learning
and my aged soul
begs to differ the words I
say
that I have not made progress.
But I am progress
and it has made me.

A broken body
teaching me to find peace in
stillness
begging to slow down
lessons taught on dark and darker days.
You can’t rush your healing.

And so they say.

Just as she says
slow down
slow down
But I feel like
I’m only
moving backwards now.

Replaying patterns
and there is no light
at the end of this tunnel.
How cruel
the simplicity
the clear step
only opposition
we ask only
of opposition.

But it pins me down
strips me of my confidence
spins my mind around
opposition
my mind should be
quiet now.

Let it be quiet now.

Healing
held in hands
that hold me
but I race from their grip
hands that I won’t allow
to mold me.

So I slip
and let slip.
I slip and let slip.