Salvage

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What keeps me holding onto my old self,

preventing me from casting it into past swells?

 

Something detested, adored, hymned too,

haunted, cancer ridden, inflamed, grieving

 

and torn- yet beloved, pulled forward

into an ocean of tomorrow and tomorrow’s

 

swimming to hope or drowning in hopelessness,

never knowing where my forgiveness exists

 

or where my identity will be marooned,

my crueler self will  beach

 

and be rescued or

die in the unlit sun.

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