Drawn Back

I am always glancing behind

Like an impulse, like a safety check.

Do I have the strength to keep moving?

Am I prepared to let go?

Making sure my intuition reinforces

What my mindless autopilot already knows,

That whenever I attempt to lunge forward

I am consistently propelled back

As if flung by an invisible barrier

As if magnetized back on track,

To my soul’s safest landing place

Where the hidden aches are finally seen

In the cobwebbed halls where healing occurred

Drawn to that space between reality and dream.

Published by Quietest Poet

Writer, mother, counselor, flower gardener, recipe seeker, and Netflix lover.

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