The Life I Know

Some have a minimalist sense of decor.

Some have a simple mode of dress, or a sparse writing  style.

Others become minimalist in a different way,  in the shedding of layers,
of cluttered personalities,
of borrowed things, day after day,
as I now see so clearly,

and so far,

all the things that nearly
all the people, places, things,
and pains,
that I
had to let go of,
to let not matter anymore,
to let matter in a different way,
to get to here,
in one piece,
to get to being me,
again.

It is the shell that shatters,
only the mask that falls away,
it feels like there is less of you
to lose,
at first.
It feels like
there will be nothing left,
but there will be plenty,
only,
probably not the things you thought,
were really you,
unless you’re one of the lucky ones,
who knew.

Some live their lives to the end
in a borrowed dream,
but then they never know that,
do they?
And maybe, they are better off asleep,
though really,
there is only one dream that each of us
can keep,
can hold onto,
when letting go,
the life we know,
is only our own.

TS

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