puffed up space between

There’s nothing I can do to shake the grip of this, but I can turn away from it’s hold. A fast is easy as long as there is light at the end of it.

I can put it on the back burner, only to revive it after long, finite expanses of time.

And within these vast fields of time, I can nurture this decent life I’ve sown, undistracted. It’s easier to breathe when there’s room.

_

sent

1 month

into the future, to August 11th, 2017 VIA futureme.org 

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