I choose to go, all the way.
It makes tears but easier to find.
Unsuspecting pain; a constant decay.
Deep and mysterious,
I fathom not where.
I choose to go, all the way.
It makes me smile,
Through all the tears.
It makes me feel alive,
More than my fears.
I choose to go, all the way.
It makes me sad.
Not for a moment, not for me.
But for children my own.
It makes me fear less; fearlessly.
But fearful, only for them to be.
Rupture through moments.
In all the ways I want to be,
Not one more, not one less.
I choose to go, all the way.
It makes me seek, unconditionally.
It makes me break.
And break I do.
But with each silent crack,
It makes me visible.
I reveal, more to me, of myself.
I choose to go, all the way.
It becomes harder to walk,
Without the limp to give me away
My muscles taught, but astray.
I choose to go, all the way.
But I have come to see,
In this strange gift of flesh,
The depth of a suffering heart can be.
I feel the loss of love,
But invisible, eternal, unletgoable.
I feel the kinship of souls,
Some new and others old,
Both unknown.
I choose to go, all the way.
It makes me humble,
With every breath I let go.
It makes me grateful,
For a new low.
Breaking me so.
I choose to go, all the way.
It makes me yearn,
Yearn to be complete.
With hope in open arms,
And loss in hidden memory.
I am, going all the way.