When I was 19
I realized that life
was one part roller-coaster
car and 2 parts indecision-decision.
Until then I suppose
I thought the price of
making my life appear
like a forced midnight hallucination
depended on the track
that was constructed without
my approval.
The frightening impact of
building my languished cabin alone
was like sitting at the apex,
glaring out across the theme park
strapped in and attempting to
manipulate the metal so as
not to fall off the ride.
It was only when I was forced
to save myself did I realize
that I was the conductor of the symphony
and head engineer of this ride.
When I'm bottled up and find
myself waiting for someone
to drop me so I can explode,
I appreciate the idea of
second grace; the reminder
that I have the choice to
move my track or to construct
it fast, either way,
I'm the one who ruins or fixes.
