Mostly we get hung up on the stopping the suddenness of abandoning a tether we both love and hate love with a devoted affection for the calm it sings to our chaos hate for the shame it haloes above us like an unflattering hat mostly we think that in stopping there is loss that our spines will feel the impact of a vacuum we cannot imagine but nevertheless dread the truancy of our determination decaying the foundations of our belief we are crushed under the swollen density of a perceived disgrace our resolve corrupted by the whispering razors of suspicion skinning our confidence to make trophies of our ruin we convince ourselves to accept failure before sacrifice is required there is in us a solemn hysteria but also a stray seed taking root in the womb of hope growing a philosophy that insists any triumph over vice is proof of a daring that binds us to our might that if we succeed we must then surrender the relief our excuses provide that there will be no alibis to rescue us from the indictment of our proficiency and that the discovery of our own strength means we can no longer deny our ability to make change manifest mostly we are afraid of the ending panicked at the certainty that a tombstone will suddenly flower atop our buried obsession and that our goodbyes to the mania we once cradled will land like glass roses thrown against the casket when victory becomes a funeral a lament for the poisons we thought were cures mostly we shudder at the purity of a fresh start we pause like skates in worship of untouched ice like a pen in praise holding ceremony for the start of a new sentence in a story it is changing.
This is really amazing illustration and drawing of a poem by Shane I honestly this is really good
Mostly we get hung up on the stopping
the suddenness of abandoning
a tether we both love and hate
love with a devoted affection
for the calm it sings to our chaos
hate
for the shame it haloes above us
like an unflattering hat
mostly we think that in stopping
there is loss
that our spines will feel the impact
of a vacuum we cannot imagine
but nevertheless dread
the truancy of our determination
decaying the foundations of our belief
we are crushed
under the swollen density
of a perceived disgrace
our resolve corrupted
by the whispering razors of suspicion
skinning our confidence
to make trophies of our ruin
we convince ourselves to accept failure
before sacrifice is required
there is in us
a solemn hysteria
but also
a stray seed
taking root in the womb of hope
growing a philosophy that insists
any triumph over vice
is proof of a daring that binds us to our might
that if we succeed
we must then surrender the relief our excuses provide
that there will be no alibis to rescue us
from the indictment of our proficiency
and that the discovery of our own strength
means we can no longer deny our ability to make change manifest
mostly we are afraid of the ending
panicked at the certainty
that a tombstone will suddenly flower atop
our buried obsession
and that our goodbyes to the mania we once cradled
will land like glass roses thrown against the casket
when victory becomes a funeral
a lament
for the poisons we thought were cures
mostly we shudder at the purity of a fresh start
we pause
like skates in worship of untouched ice
like a pen in praise
holding ceremony for the start of a new sentence
in a story
it is changing.