13/30

Changes shift
Like quick sand
Feet unprepared
To comprehend
The predicament
Of moving at a standstill
Of the pausing of inertia
Of the redemption we seek
In the foreground of stability
We were never meant to see the
Quicksand appear in front of us
It fights and pulls
With the shifting of complacency
Carrying on shoulders
Burdens we thought were
Light enough to lift
On our own
Or small enough to bury
Under skin made of secrets
Until we are stuck
And shit changes
And the landscape
From which horizons
Were fixed
Fall deep into the
Broken line of vision
And we begin to sink

With change it seems
There is no swimming
Only the letting go
And sinking
We’ve always just assumed
Suffocation awaited under the recesses
Of change
And no one has ever returned
To tell us otherwise
But perhaps
Beyond our knowing
Beneath the shifting of sand
We might find there is more
To sinking than we thought

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