Surrender

Life’s Beauty is the art of letting go—

I’m constantly throwing away my fine line pens

before they run out of ink

I press them down, the nub disappears

metal scrapes across flaking pages, ink sputters out

I buy another; next time I’ll play the part better

—of an ideal

I’m in love with the idea of you

Guess you know it’s true

I know I’d love the real you too

Hope you know that’s true

—of lyrical genius

It’s so easy to reframe pains as a character-building gallery wall

the progression ethereal, immortalised, for the world’s eyes and mind

for we are Curators

picking what is presentable, placing carefully, choosing correct light and shadow

the mess of people flock in

and we stand aside and try to let them think and feel how they will

—of control

Decide. Decide. Decide. Decide.

Oh, what would we do if there were no wrong answers?

—of everything