Dangerous Tracks (Upcoming Release) — NaPoWriMo Day #12 — a poem about heeding advice far too late

You don't have to be here to change me.
You are the air in my lungs,
the dreams in my sleep.
Your sentences are printed
like tattoos inside of me,
like graffiti, like calligraphy,
like the gospel that she sings.
You gave me a halo—gave me wings.
When others gave advice,
it was so unwanted, so unheard.
When you'd open your mouth to speak,
you were a sparkling angel guiding me.
In your absence, I find my presence.
In worn mementos, I find fresh lessons.
You taught me not to force the growth I crave
and to only manipulate the words on the page.
I'm careening around these dangerous tracks
and praying that God will drop an exit ramp
but all I need is to press my foot against the brake,
unfasten the seatbelt, and walk away.
I wish I could sing you my redemption song—
wish I could tell you why it all took so long.
But I'll pour it into these pages
and teach it to the babies.
I'll paint the map like a fine art piece
and sculpt the monuments
that revere this release.

Photo by: Simon King