Bowing Out Gracefully - A Poem

The sword we pick up gently is always double edged.

Should you rip them in two and run?

Or face them and your traumas

Sword pointed at their heart,

as you quietly back away?

The fight is barely worth the energy.

It exists only within your own mind.

Your old soul screams

‘Not This’,

‘Stay Put’,

’Leave me alone’

’Don’t Go’

‘Here we are again’

But dropping your guard

And letting them go

Brings a crowd, a strangle hold,

A heavier anchoring.

Their painful ridicule

of your calm resolve,

weighs like a rock,

and rots like death.

Yes, Bowing out gracefully

From the thing they claimed they never wanted,

Is a double edged sword,

Designed to slice you twice.

Bleed you out until numb

And then twist in the wound

When you thought it was blunted.

But it was a graceful end.

Wasn’t it?

As the draw-bridge finally rises.

This castle feels safe again.