Last grasp (A poem)

It seems some things are harder to let go of…

Sometimes I like it too much
that’s the problem
I want to let it go
but it keeps me clinging
when the memory isn’t enough
to get me through

And what I quickly forget
is of little use
What I’ve written
no longer makes sense
I only sense that something is still wrong
there’ll be danger if I go that way

This is where I get out
while I still recognize the difference
between acceptance and survival
When the taste
clears from my tongue
the exodus will have begun

(19 October 2015—posted October 20th)