What will be left of me
When the world turns back on
Will I have died to enough
Mourned enough
Stayed sane enough
To pave a new way
After all the in-between,
Will I embrace freedom in the new
Be made new
Or will I yoke myself to liminal norms
Fear
Uncertainty
Self-protection
This cocoon will be my crucible
Or else my coffin
Melting out impurities
Or else turning out dust
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In Pursuit of More 
I’m glad to see you’re writing again. 🙂
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Been writing, just not posting! Hopefully I’ll be able to get pieces up more regularly 😊
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